


Sweater Boy

by The_Fallen_Pizzaman



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Art, Beaches, Big Brother Gabriel, California, Charlie Bradbury - Freeform, Dean - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, Fighting, Fluff, Hate, High School, Huntington Beach, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester - Freeform, Love, M/M, Music, Ocean, Pain, Past Abuse, Sam Winchester - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, Sweaters, Winchester - Freeform, Young Castiel, Young Castiel/Young Dean Winchester, Young Dean Winchester, Young Love, Young Winchesters, castiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:29:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fallen_Pizzaman/pseuds/The_Fallen_Pizzaman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester.</p><p>Pros: Sexyass motherfucker, known to be amazing in bed.<br/>Cons: A gigantic asshole with a fetish for other people's pain and suffering and therefore I loathe with a burning passion.</p><p>Never did I think that the pros would come to outweigh the cons.</p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Noticed

I shifted in my seat, glancing up at the clock across the classroom, pressing my glasses back up my nose. The black hands seemed to have been set into slow motion the entire period. Now there were five minutes left until History was over, and I was probably the most impatient human being in the world right now.

I tapped my right foot impatiently, unable to pay any attention to the teacher giving an incredibly boring lecture. So I looked around the room, admiring my new classmates this year. It was the first day of my Junior year of high school, which I was not very enthusiastic about. Another nine months of waking up at an ungodly hour to sit around for seven hours in a hell infested with idiots. Fantastic. I could easily tell that History would remain my least favorite period this year. I was anxious for my next class, English. I've always loved reading and writing, and I wasn't half bad at it either.

The sound of sweet freedom woke me from my daze. I jumped out of my seat right as the bell rang, grabbing my bag and rushing out the door. I had already memorized the location of my English class, which was located conveniently close to History. I merged into the sea of students heading in that direction until I reached the nearby classroom.

A wave of cinnamon and vanilla hit my nose as I sauntered into the light speckled room, causing a small smile to form on my lips. I chose the seat in the back corner of the large room, setting my bag down as I slid into the hard blue chair. I watched as the seats were slowly occupied by the arriving students. I absently played with my collar as the bell rang a second time. I pulled out my composition book and a pencil, just as I heard some hoots and whistling, or whatever people call that annoying noise. I instantly groaned, for I knew who had just made his way into the room.

 _Why the hell would I be in a class with_ him _?_

I hesitantly glanced up to see the guy I loathe - Dean Winchester.

Dean was basically the "commander" of the whole school, even the seniors. Everyone worshiped him, and those who didn't feared him, except for me. I did not fear Dean, nor did I bow to his every whim like most people. I despised Dean with everything I had. He was an asshole who bullied anyone he wanted to, when he wanted to. Well, he had other people do his dirty work for him.

His "second in command" and his best friend, Jo Harville, was not nearly as harsh as Dean was, but that wasn't saying much. She was a blond-haired tomboy type of girl who was the proud owner of a quite large knife collection. She kept Dean in line and gave him advice on every situation. To my understanding, Jo and Dean were like siblings. They grew up together, in the same neighborhood, actually. I didn't mind Jo nearly as much. She usually only kicked the crap out of someone when they tried to flirt and got too handsy, or they messed with someone they really shouldn't have. Was it bad that I found her blood stained boots fashionable?

I quickly came to the realization that the only open seat left just happened to be right next to me as Dean made his way towards where I was currently sitting. I groaned as he sat down, setting his feet up to rest on the desk and leaning back in his seat. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of gum and popped it into his mouth. I snorted as he winked at a few girls, who, as expected, began to instantly freak out. It was then I noticed he'd heard me, because he turned his head to meet my eyes with an explosion of green.

"What's your problem?" He said with a mocking tone, loudly chewing his gum.

I chuckled softly. "Where do I begin?" I snarled.

Dean lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

"Assbutt." I broke my gaze from his to begin writing.  Our teacher had already written a prompt on the board.

"Excuse me?" I refused to answer him. I rolled my eyes instead. Dean re-crossed his legs.

"Your funeral." Dean huffed, clearly irritated. He didn't stare at me for long, though. He just pulled out his phone, obviously texting other people in the classroom. The teacher glared at someone as they burst out laughing, immediately slapping their hand over their mouth. I could hear Dean muffling his laughter with his jacket sleeve.

Dammit, Cassie. I could practically hear Gabe's groan of disapproval as I, yet again, failed at keeping my damn mouth shut. But to be fair, I was the one surrounded by complete assclowns thirty-five hours every single week. Here's a summary of my main goals in high school: Don't fail, and don't get noticed by anyone. Especially Dean and the buttnuggets known as his posse. I knew I could not contain my hate for him, I'm a little surprised that I kept from going off on him to be completely honest. At least he didn't know my name, now that would be a problem. Did he?

I jumped internally when Dean actually snorted, clutching his stomach with one hand, holding his phone in the other. I noticed him biting his lip as the teacher glanced up, his eyes shinning with innocence. Once she looked back down, Dean exchanged a glance with another student before another wave of quiet chuckles racked their shoulders. I soon grew tired of watching them.

Worries and concerns filled my mind as I imagined every immpossible senario that could take place within the next 24 hours. I set my pencil down, and glanced at the gray-haired teacher. She seemed pretty occupied with her laptop, so she might not notice if I pulled out my phone. I had just reached a hand into my black bag when the bell rang, making me jump in my seat. Well that was fast.

I glanced at the clock, startled. I sighed, putting away my almost unused book and pencil. I had barely even written two sentences. I slung my bag over my shoulder as I stood up. I could feel Dean's eyes boring into me as I trotted out of the classroom.

The rest of the day flew by, except for my last class: Latin. It was excruciatingly boring today, but I hoped it would get interesting soon. Latin was the only other class I shared with Dean. Even though he sat at the other side of the room from me, I noticed his glare targeting me throughout the whole class, along with a few of his group members.

I pulled out my phone with the intention of texting my brother, Gabe, to see if he could pick me up. Then I swore as I remembered that he was working today. I always walked to and from school each day, since my house was only a few blocks away and I was not in possesion of a car. But I had hoped to escape to my somewhat safe home as soon as possible, safe from Dean's minions.

When the bell rang, signaling our freedom, I got to my locker as soon as possible. I gathered my things, and hurried out of the school. I had to go around the back of the building in order to head in the direction of my house. Right as I turned the corner though, I was pushed back by a sudden force.

Somehow I managed to keep my balance and my heart sank as I looked ahead of me. Gordon, a dark skinned muscular guy, and Benny, another guy with bare tattooed arms and a cigarette in his mouth, stood in front of me. Behind them, leaning up against the brick wall, was Dean. He seemed satisfied by the look of shear terror and surprise on my face. I quickly switched my terrified expression for acceptance. I knew I did not have a chance at running now, and I wouldn't go down a complete coward.

I inhaled, partially prepared for the first blow. The first punch to my stomach had me bending over, my breath knocked out of me, and I dropped my bag. The next thing I knew, I was slammed up against the brick wall, an ache shooting through my spine. A burst of pain spread in my right cheek as I was hit again. I barely had time to suck in another breath when a third punch hit my nose. My face was surrounded by pain, and I could feel the blood dripping from my nose, and I was pretty sure it was already staining my gray sweater.

I let out a surprised yelp as I was thrown onto the hard ground. I felt like complete crap, an aching pain surging through my body. I gasped for air, blinking a few times. I was surprised to find that my attackers had retreated, until I glanced at Dean. Jo was now standing beside him, speaking to him with an angry look painted on her face. I figured that she disagreed with Deans actions, at least without consulting her first.I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back the urge to throw up and cry at the same time.

By the time I opened my eyes again, the four of them already had their backs turned to me, walking in the opposite direction in which I came. I decided I had better leave school grounds before someone saw me. But when I tried to lift myself up, my strength failed me, and I fell back onto the grass. I waited for my vision to clear a little bit more, and I realized that my glasses were still in working condition. At least Gabe wouldn't have to pay for new ones. Even if I had broken them, I wouldn't have told Gabe. Money was too tight.

After a few minutes, I was able to lift myself up into a standing position. I found my black bag just a few feet away from me, and I slung it back over my shoulder. I wiped the blood from my nose with the sleeve of my sweater, figuring the previous blood stains had already ruined it. I would have to discard it before Gabe got home.

I headed to the fence parallel to the side of the school, finding the break in the metal. I slipped through the narrow break, following a path I had made years ago through the small stretch of tall trees. The trees were mostly bare, and multi - colored leaves littered the ground below.

After a while I finally exited the small stretch of trees and followed a cracked sidewalk down an empty road. After I had traveled several blocks, I reached a small white house. I climbed the wooden steps and unlocked the door. As soon as I locked the door behind me, I ran up the stairs and went into my room, throwing my bag on my bed. I stripped my ruined sweater off and buried it deep in my closet. I then proceeded to wash the blood off my skin by taking a shower.

. . . . .

Gabe was still gone by the time I got out of the shower, and the sun was setting in the horizon. I decided to wear dark jeans and my painting sweater, which was white with many different paint marks, therefore it was called my painting sweater. I grabbed some blue, purple, and black paint, along with a brush, squeezing the various colors onto a plank of wood. I made my way over to a massive white heart on the wall. It was big enough to cover most of the brown wall.

I had made it at the beginning of my freshman year, when me and Gabe first moved here. Its purpose was to keep track of how many times I had been abused in any way since we moved away from our parents, since a new start with Gabe. I had hoped it would still be blank by the time I graduated.

I decided today's events were only worth a bruise on the right side of the heart. I blared some Coldplay, and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was really rushed and short... It'll get better I promise :3


	2. Go Ahead and Break My Bones You Dick

Most sane people wouldn't show up at school until a few days after getting beaten, but I wasn't most people. I showed up the very next day, wearing dark blue converse and a large black sweater. I hadn't seen Dean for the whole day, until english class had begun.

I sat in the same spot I had yesterday, but Dean moved to the other side of the room. I could feel his eyes piercing into me once again. I could not tell weather he was admiring my bravery, or mocking my stupidity.

English class was especially boring today, the teacher reviewed grammar rules and such. Also, my cheek still hurt from yesterday, and that was annoying. I took no time to dig out my phone and put in my headphones. After a minute of scrolling through my music, I decided to listen to Enya. I laid my head down on my desk, looking out the window to my left.

I watched a squirrel, who sat on a branch connected to the tree just outside of the window. The leaves on the tree stood out with different shades of yellow and orange. The sun hit them in a way that caused a fire-like effect.

I glanced up at the teacher, who wasn't paying one bit of attention to me. I proceeded to close my eyes, letting the sun warm me, and the music free me from feeling.

. . . . .

At lunch, I never sat in the cafeteria. I snuck outside to sit up against a familiar willow tree, enjoying an apple I picked from one of the surrounding trees. Being practically invisible had its perks.

I sat there, eyes closed, basking in the bright sunlight. I chose to listen to nature's music for now. A slight breeze whistled through the treetops and birds sang in unison. My black sweater was blazing hot, just how I liked it. I crossed my legs and held my sides as I began to become drowsy.

"You're a giant dumbass, aren't you?" My eyes shot open as a deep voice grumbled above me. I briefly stared into the mans, surprisingly beautiful, green eyes. Streaks of sunlight shone through the willow branches, framing his body. I bet the only thing going for him were his good looks.

It took me a second to register what he had just said. "No, I'm just not afraid of some asshole with a fetish for other people's pain." I spat, crossing my arms.

"Oh, is that so?" Dean chuckled, taking one step closer towards me.

I sighed in frustration. "Fuck off."

"Excuse me?" Dean looked partially shocked, and a bit angry. No one dared to insult Dean, especially when they were all ready a target.

"You heard me. Fuck. Off." I closed my eyes, waiting for his retaliation. And it came. Hard. He kicked my stomach where the bruise had formed from yesterday, causing a massive amount of pain there. I clutched my stomach with one hand and held myself up with the other. I brought my knees to my chest as I gasped for air, groaning in pain. I was thankful that no one else was there to witness.

By the time I'd opened my eyes again, Dean was gone.

. . . . .

I ended up ditching school for the rest of the day. I wasn't scared of Dean or anything, but I felt sick and throwing up my breakfast at school wasn't exactly on my bucket list.

But I didn't go home. Instead, I walked into town, admiring the swaying palm trees and birds that came into view. I decided to stop by the Bradbury diner. It's where Charlie worked.

The diner was owned by Charlie's grandparents, a family business. I stopped by occasionally after school or when Gabe was gone.

Charlie was an extremely geeky girl, even more so than me. She was a long-haired ginger with a small gap between her front teeth. Just like me, she was a massive fangirl. Every shirt she owned was fandom-related, and I thought that she was the exact definition awesome.

I heard the clang of a bell as I pushed open the door, making my way up to the counter and sitting on the red stool. Charlie looked up at me with surprise.

"Hey, Cassie." She stared at me, wearing a confused expression.

"Hi Charlie." I flashed her a brief smile, which faded as fast as it had appeared.

"Why are you here so early? Don't you have school right now?"

"Uh huh." I muttered.

"What happened?"

"I pissed off a certain Winchester."

"Dean?" Charlie seemed shocked, also leaning on her side of the counter.

"I called him an Assbutt."

"Assbutt? Really, Cassie, that's the best you could do?" Charlie chuckled.

I shrugged, glancing down.

"So what happened after that?" Charlie pressed, clearly interested.

I sighed. "Well, yesterday, he sent Gordon and Benny after me, hence the injuries." When I showed her my cuts and bruises, she turned slightly serious.

"Holy Spock." She said with wide eyes.

"And then," as I continued, I pulled my sweater up, showing her my stomach. "He kicked me today."

Charlie was horrified when she saw the purpley-black bruises covering my ribs. I hadn't observed them recently, and since yesterday, they had gotten worse. I raised my eyebrows as I looked myself over.

"Well, shit." I glanced at Charlie, who stared at my midsection.

She met my eyes, making a feeble attempt to me feel better.

"Nice abs, Cassie." She faked a small smile.

I shoved my black sweater back down, feeling slightly exposed. I'd always been sensitive about my body. Don't ask why.

I could hear Charlie let out and exaggerated sigh. "If only you would take those baggy sweaters and hipster glasses off, maybe you could attract some guys."

All I could do was laugh.

"I'm serious, Cassie!" She smiled. "You are really damn attractive."

"Charlie," I lightly chuckled. "First of all, no I'm not. I could break mirrors with my face for a living. Second of all, you know my reasons."

"I know, Balthazar. But you should've gotten over him by now. It's been over a year."

My smile faded at the memories.

Charlie's green eyes turned soft. "You've got to stop living in the dark sometime, Cassie."

I considered her words for a moment. Suddenly, the bell rang, and I turned around to face a familiar girl, who wore a black leather jacket and knee high boots. As she pushed the door open, a smirk spread on her face when she spotted me.

"I should go, bye Charlie." I muttered and she gave me a sorry smile. Just as I'd gotten up and been a few feet away from the door, a small hand with red nails jutted out to touch my chest, and I stopped.

"Hey, Clarence." She whispered, leaning towards me.

I dropped my gaze to hers with an irritated expression, which didn't seem to phase Meg at all. Instead she slowly slid her finger tips up to my collarbone, and twirled a strand of her brown hair with a free hand. I knew what she was thinking, as usual.

"No, Meg." I sighed.

She dropped her hand, running it down my arm while doing so.

"You'll come around." Meg winked, brushing my shoulder as she strutted over to the counter. She made sure to stick her jean-covered ass out as she tapped the toe of her boot on the floor. I rolled my eyes and exited the diner.

. . . . .

I spent the next hour roaming around the streets of Huntington Beach, lost in thought. Only until I turned the corner did I realize I had walked all the way to the beach. I crossed the large street, soon reaching the small stretch of grass. Groups of people were scattered along the grassy area. I had no idea where I was going until I began walking on the long, wooden dock.

The dock was very wide. People fished, throwing their lines off of the edge. Some played guitars or sang with cases open for tips. Others walked in groups, pairs or just like me, alone. I passed a few people speaking in a different language, possibly Spanish.

After about a third of the dock later, I began walking over the water, large waves lapping the wet sand below. The sun was growing closer to the ocean’s edge, but many people still swam or surfed and sat on the beach. Some girls in brightly colored bikinis and guys in swim trunks bumped a volleyball back and forth over a net. Children ran along the water’s edge, splashing and chasing each other.

I smiled and looked back ahead of me, and noticed the restaurant at the end of the dock had grown closer to me than I’d thought. A large red sign said “Ruby’s” in white letters above the entrance. I did not go into the diner, though. Instead I went around the octagon-shaped building to rest my arms on the railing, watching the blue ocean engulf the setting sun.

"Yo, sweater boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this chapter sucked too, but I'm already working on the next chapter and it should be much better and longer. I just had a huge writers block and I felt that I needed to upload this as soon as it was partially decent. Comments and criticism are greatly appreciated! :) I hope you liked it.


	3. Coincidence

Dean’s POV

 

“Jeez, lay off the fries, dude.” Sam stared at me as I devoured yet another fry.

“It’s a free country, Sam.” I grabbed a handful of fries and shoved them into my mouth. Jess giggled beside Sam, covering her mouth with her right hand. Her blood red nails matched her loose tank top, and God she was cute. SO out of Sam's league.

“And you know, Mother Nature gives out free heart attacks, too.” Jo leaned back in the booth to look at me.

“But,” I commented. “In case you've forgotten, I’m kind of in debt to her. So I’d have to pay a serious amount of money for one of those.” I joked, remembering the day I’ll never forget. I tried not to let it bother me that much.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.” Jo took a sip of her coke.

I smiled and glanced outside, noticing that the sun was getting lower. I looked back to Jess, who took a sip of the strawberry smoothie she and Sam shared. Her hazel eyes flickered from the cup to me in a questioning manner.

“You've got quite a talent for sucking things, Jess.” Jess chocked at my comment, coughing and laughing at the same time.

“Oh my God, Dean.” Both Sam and Jo said simultaneously. Jo giggled while Sam patted Jess on the back, smiling. Jess brought a hand to her chest once she’d recovered. I laughed at her expression, and she stuck her tongue out at me.

“Nice try at assassinating me, but I am immortal.” Jess grinned at me.

“Your immortality is no match for me, one day I will take you down.” I leaned back, crossing my legs. I looked back out the window to see that the sun had began to set behind the water's surface. But someone stood off to the side of my view this time, leaning on the docks railing. I squinted at the figure, trying to remember who it was. I knew I had seen that wild hair from somewhere, apparently Jo had too.

“Does that ass look familiar to you?” She asked as if she knew who it was. Then it hit me.

“Oh yeah, I am very familiar with that ass.” I whipped around as I heard Sam, Jess, and Jo burst with laughter. Jess clutched her stomach and bent over, silently laughing with her eyes squeezed shut. Sam threw his head back, loudly cackling while Jo banged a hand on the table, howling.

“Not like that!” I defended myself, rolling my eyes. “I’m going to go pay.” I smirked as I got up, walking over to the register. A dark haired girl stood behind the counter, looking as bored as ever as she leaned against the white counter top.

I chuckled at her annoyed expression as I slipped her a credit card.

"What?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, nothing."

"What does "nothing" mean?" She pushed.

"I think the absence of stuff or something like that." I smirked.

She glared at me.

"Okay, fine." I threw my hands up in defeat. "Your expression is practically begging me to save you from your shitty job."

"Well, that's true." She sighed in annoyance. "It wouldn't be so bad if I could eat on the job, I'm starving. I mean, who do I have to kill to get some French fries around here?"

I bit my bottom lip. "Yeah, I couldn't last an hour working here. Being surrounded by burgers, pie, and not being able to eat anything." I shivered at the thought, earning me a laugh from the cashier.

She handed me the credit card and receipt. I smiled at her over my shoulder as I turned back to the table.

After I’d paid the bill, they had quieted down a bit, but they were still red faced and teary eyed.

"Are we leaving now?" Sam smiled up at me, his brown eyes warm.

"Yeah." I turned around and headed out the diner, and they followed behind me. The brush of wind on my face was pleasing, the smell of the ocean filling my nose. Then I remembered sweater boy.

“One second, I’ll be right back.” I told Sam, who nodded, he and Jess both watching the sunset, hand in hand.

"Let's make this quick, Dean," Jo sighed. "I don't want to waste a perfectly good Thursday night."

"Don't worry, I won't be long. I'm just having a little bit of fun."

I could hear the thud of Jo's high-heeled boots as she followed me around the back of restaurant. The sweater guy was so focused on the sunset, he didn't notice us approach him from behind. The wind ruffled his dark hair and black sweater, the sunset reflecting off of his deep, solemn blue eyes. I almost decided to leave him be before Jo spoke up.

"Yo, sweater boy." Jo said, her voice raised.

The sweater guy jumped, whipping around to face me and Jo with a surprised face. The surprise in his eyes mixed with disappointment as he recognized us.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly.

"We could ask you the same thing." I shifted my weight and shoved my hands in my jacket pockets.

The sweater guy chuckled with irritation. "Oh my God- why does the universe hate me so much right now?"

"Well someone's in a pissy mood."

"No shit, Sherlock. You're here." The sweater guy growled, glaring at me with an explosion of blue through his black hipster glasses.

"Touché." I raised my eyebrows at him.

He sighed. "Now if you would kindly get the fuck away from me," He turned back around to lean on the railing. "That would be great."

“I’d watch it if I were you.” I snickered, hating his lack of respect. What was with this guy? “I’ve got more power than you might think. I could make you miserable with a single word.”

“I already am, sweet cheeks.” The sweater guy replied, his voice stone cold.

I glanced to my left to make a smart remark to Jo when I noticed she had gone back to where Sam and Jess were. They stood in a loose circle, conversing with each other to pass the time.

“You ditched the last half of school today,” I raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

The sweater guy blinked, but never took his eyes off of the fading light the sun left behind.

“I thought you said you weren't scared of me. Well apparently you are. I figured- “ I was cut off when he chuckled softly.

“Oh, I bet that’s what you thought, eh?” He rolled his eyes and pushed up his glasses. “That’s precious.”

“Care to explain?”

“DEAN!” I turned to see Sam running over to me, his hair flowing in the wind like a damn Disney princess. He stopped in front of me, his bright teeth showing in an open-mouthed smile. He glanced at sweater boy and fixed his plaid button-down.

"Hi!" Sam enthusiastically greeted him before he turned to me again.

“Jo said if you don’t come right now, she’ll go all Vader on your ass.” Sam’s eyes were bright and alive as he spoke.

“Alright I’m coming- Oh and we’ll pick up here tomorrow,” I told the sweater guy. “I mean, if you show up.” I said in a mocking tone.

He sighed, his eyes closed. I turned to follow Sam back to the group, where we began to walk back to the other side of the dock.

“We going back to our place?” I asked and Jo nodded.

“Yeah, since your dad is gone again, we can hang out there.” Jo replied as we continued our way back to the Impala.

. . . . .

We all piled into the Impala- me in the driver’s seat (obviously), Jo in shotgun and Sam and Jess in the back. Feeling rebellious as usual I blared some ACDC, most likely disturbing every household within a mile radius, beers all around. Since we had been raised by a single father who was rarely home, Sam and I never respected the law- or any authority for that matter. We were used to doing whatever the hell we wanted, and that frame of mind had rubbed off on Jess and Jo as well.

"HELLS BELLS!" I sang along to the chorus while drumming my hands on the steering wheel.

"Your voice is like a screeching toddler to my ears." Jo stated loudly over the music as I continued to yell out the words.

. . . . .

It took longer than we’d thought to get back home, considering I wasn’t paying any attention to where I was driving. I was also challenged to a race, and there was no way in hell I’d back down from that, especially with my own personal cheerleaders in the backseat. Most people think they could beat my Baby easily, going by her age. But they’re no match her.

It was pitch black by the time I pulled up into our house’s long driveway. Our house was three stories high, not including the basement. It was huge and white, on a small hill with an amazing view of the ocean in the backyard. In the back was a large balcony and a massive pool (and a hot tub). The front of the house concealed the inside, besides the long window revealing the spiral staircase, but the back of the house had windows as big as a whole wall. Needless to say, we were rich as fuck.

Before I even cut the engine, Sam was out of the car, pushing Jess aside to get through the doorway first, with Jo and me right behind them. We kicked off our shoes as quickly as we could before racing to the couch. I nearly fell on my face as my blacks socks slid on the smooth wooden floor of the living room. We each franticly searched the couch, hoping to find the remote first.

“Got it!” Jess yelled, holding her trophy up for us all to see.

“Dammit, Jess!” I screeched before tackling her on the soft white couch, and the wrestling match began.

I heard Sam say, “Hey, don’t get too handsy, you two. I called dibs!”

I was winning the ongoing battle until Jess got a foot on my chest and kicked me off of the couch with a loud thud.

“Ow.” I muttered as I pushed myself up onto my feet.

“Are you okay?” Jess giggled, clutching the remote to her chest.

“Don’t talk to me. “ I retorted, giving her a pouty face. I strutted over to Sam, throwing my arm around his waist. “Tell her, babe.”

A wave of laughter washed over us at that. I let out a yep as Sam suddenly picked me up in his arms.

“Care to accompany me to the kitchen?” He chuckled.

I wrapped my arms possessively around his neck, glaring at Jess as Sam carried me off into the magical land of food and beer. He ducked his head slightly to fit under the dip on the ceiling. He set me down on the island in our kitchen and opened up the fridge, handing me a few beers to take back.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Who were you talking to?"

"Who?" I replied, opening and taking a swig of my beer.

"At the beach." Sam clarified. "The one with the big black sweater and the pretty face."

I chocked on my beer at Sam's description of him. That was unexpected.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Sam looked at me with concern.

"Yeah," I rasped. "I'm fine."

"So? Who was it?" Sam pushed.

"I don't know." I realized I didn't know who the sweater guy was.

"Seriously, Dean."

"Seriously, Sammy, I don't know his name. Why?"

Sam rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "I dunno, Jess said she thought she recognized him from somewhere."

"Where?"

"I don't know, she couldn't remember." Sam headed towards the living room. "You coming?"

"Yeah." I followed Sam as we returned to the girls.

I almost gave Jo a heart attack when I leaped onto the couch, causing her to bounce slightly. She snatched a beer from my hands, setting her feet on my lap.

“What shall we be watching this fine evening?” Sam asked, cradling Jess on the other couch.

“The Big Bang Theory?” She snuggled up to him, seeking his approval. He smiled and pecked her lips with a simple kiss. She grinned and turned the TV on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it was a little cheesy... I've been spending a lot of time on the next chapter, so I didn't have much time to edit this one. Oh well, comments and criticism are appreciated! I hope you enjoyed this!  
> Happy New Year!


	4. Finding Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt like I had to update even though I don't feel ready to. Sorry if this sucks, but I tried to make this longer than the last few chapters. I'm going to put more effort into this story. I hope you like it!

I woke up to my alarm, the song “Teenagers” blaring through the headphones currently in my ears, at 6:00 in the morning. I paused it with a groan and dragged myself out of bed, knowing if I stayed a moment longer, I would never get up. I quickly got ready in the bathroom connected to my room. I decided to wear a navy blue sweater and black jeans. I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs.

When I reached the kitchen, Gabriel greeted me through a mouthful of soggy cereal.

I opened the cupboard above my head and pulled out a box of Cheerios. Kate them right out of the box.

"How can you eat that crap?" Gabe stared at me as I leaned on the counter.

"How can you eat that crap?" I gestured to the soggy bowl of Lucky Charms before him.

"I don't think you understand my need for sugar." Gabe shoved another spoonful of it in his mouth.

"And I never will." I threw a Cheerio in the air, catching it in my mouth.

We talked for a while longer before I left. As I began my journey destined for school grounds, I remembered last night. I went to the dock. Dean approached me. He was with Jo, some tall guy, and a familiar girl. I couldn’t grasp her name, I just recognized her. And she recognized me. Then Dean and the others had left. I left shortly after, just seeing them pull away in Dean’s beloved Impala. Then I realized I’d left my bag at Charlie’s, so I went back to retrieve it. Then I’d realized I hadn’t eaten anything but an apple, and me and Charlie talked over some burgers until 2:00 am. Charlie offered me a ride home, which I gladly accepted. Gabe was passed out on the couch with the TV still on. I trotted up to my room, changed, and collapsed on the bed. Then I woke up.

I reached the woods and began humming various songs. I stopped once I'd reached the break in the sharp metal fence, which I slid through. Once I did, I looked at my phone. 6:45. I was surprised that I had arrived so early, maybe I’d walked faster than usual. I decided to go to my willow tree and wait for class to begin. But right when I turned the corner of the brick building, a familiar face stood in front of me, blocking my way.

The man was taller than I, with dark skin and stone cold eyes. His face was hard to make out in the dim lights in the parking lot behind me, but eventually I figured it out. And I’m pretty sure my face expression screamed something along the lines of HOLY FUCKING FUCK WHAT IS THIS SHIT because he shot me an evil laugh.

“What’cha doing here so early, sweater boy?” Gordon asked in a mocking tone.

I sighed. I guessed "sweater boy" was my new name. “Did Dean send you?”

Gordon shook his head.

“...Then, who did?” I asked, confused.

“No one sent me.”

I stiffened. “Then… Why are you here?’

“Benny got the fun part last time, but you never gave me the opportunity to have my turn.” Gordon took another threatening step towards me. His intentions were clear, and so were my options.

Suddenly, Gordon’s clenched fist connected with my right cheek, my headphones ripping out of my ears. The blow sent the left side of my head into the brick. I yelped as the pain surged through me, and he had me pinned against the brick wall, dizzy and hurting. That’s when I made a split second decision to aim my knee at his crotch. I guessed I had hit him because he let out a startled gasp and the weight pinning me to the wall lifted. While Gordon was vulnerable, I went in for another blow, which had him doubling over. My head throbbed painfully, and I leaned on the wall for support. I must have delayed for too long, and soon Gordon had his hands wrapped around my neck.

My lungs began to scream for air, and I was getting desperate. That’s when I kicked the back of his knees with my left leg. His knees buckled slightly, giving me only a half second of time. To me, that was just enough. I twisted my body slightly to shove my elbow in his face. Gordon yelled out and stumbled backwards before lunging at me again, blood pouring out of his nose. I ducked his attempt at a punch and I did what I hadn’t done in years. I placed my hands on each side of his body, and flipped him over, knocking the air out of his lungs as he hit the ground.

I kept my hand on his chest until I realized he was unconscious. I threw myself back onto the grass, scrambling to get away from Gordon. I sat there for a second until my mind functioned enough to let me know I had to take cover somewhere. I eventually found my bag, glasses and phone in the darkness before heading to the nearest entrance to the closest building, the school.

I stumbled up the steps, just on the verge of passing out. To my luck, the door was unlocked. I ran through the building until I found my locker. It was the last locker before the corner down a narrow hallway, and there was a small space in between my locker and the wall. I fell onto the tan wall, sliding down until I hit the gray tile floor. I adjusted my position so my back was against the side of my locker and my feet touched the wall I faced, and I was hidden by the shadow my locker provided. Right after I was out of sight, the blackness engulfed me.

. . . . .

Black. Darkness. A faint nose. A voice growing louder with each breath. Cold back. Soreness. Slight feeling in my shoulder. Now a small earthquake. The feeling grows stronger. Voice becoming clearer. Eyes open. Earthquake ends. Blurry picture, male voice. Eyes adjusting. An explosion of green. Tight jawline. Short but wild hair. Dean.

I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them, my senses fully restored. I groaned at the soreness that filled my body. I glanced around, trying to figure out where I was. Dean crouched beside me. He seemed troubled for some reason. Wait, why was Dean here? I guessed I was at school, but still, why would Dean be here? Then the memories came creeping back, filling out most of the answers. Dean was most likely here about Gordon.

“Hey, sweater boy?” His voice was strangely soft.

“Hmm?” I hummed in reply, shutting my eyes.

“What the hell happened?” His tone became slightly harsh.

I had no idea why I kept talking. “Gordon.”

“Damn straight Gordon happened.” Dean said roughly. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“A lot of things.”

“Like jumping people? You son of a bitch.”

My eyes shot open in surprise.

“What?” I glared at him.

Dean returned the glare.

“Don’t act like you don’t know. You got some guys and ganged up on Gordon.” Dean sneered. “Real classy.”

My jaw dropped slightly at the accusation.

“Who the fuck- No!” I growled. “Why would I attack him? You’d be on my ass in a heartbeat!”

“So?”

“You fucking piece of horse shit,” I stood up and clenched my fists. “HE ATTACKED ME!”

Dean also stood up, never breaking eye contact.

“Bullshit.” He spat. "You'd never beat Gordon that bad in a fight. You couldn't even come close to beating him."

"How injured is he?" I wondered out loud.

“Broken nose, definite concussion, sprained knee. Some cuts and bruises.” Dean shifted his weight.

I frowned. “Eh, I’ve done worse.”

Suddenly Dean had me pinned up against the lockers. “If I were you I’d quit while I was ahead.” He growled.

“I’m not lying, Dean.” I stiffened.

Dean searched my eyes, as if he could find the truth there. His gaze softened for a moment, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “I saw Benny and Gordon beat you. You didn’t even try to fight back.” Dean’s voice seemed distant, as if he was focusing on something else.

“I don’t like conflict.” I blinked at him, relaxing slightly.

“Then why would you attack Gordon?” He furrowed his brow.

I groaned. “I didn’t- He attacked me this morning.” I started. “I was walking to school, and I showed up early. For some reason, Gordon was there, like he was expecting me.”

“Why would he just attack you for no reason?” Dean looked confused, torn between two stories.

“I don’t know- Something about his “turn” with me.” I reached up to touch my aching head, and Dean let go of me.

I felt something hot and sticky on my hand, and I drew it back to observe it. Blood covered my hand, a little too much to be safe. I suddenly felt very lightheaded. I brought my clean hand back to lean on the locker. But the dizzy feeling spread through my skull like wild fire. I began to fall when I was caught by Dean.

“Sweater boy?” I heard concern in Dean’s voice.

I tried to pull away from his grip, only to fall into him more. Before I knew it, he was carrying me. Dean. Carrying me like I was a fucking baby. But the strange thing is, I didn’t protest. I even wrapped my arms around his neck, resting my injured face on his chest. Yep, I was totally out of my mind.

Dean was so warm compared to me. I must have felt like a popsicle to him. I felt his chest expand as he breathed in and out. I could hear his heartbeat thudding away, which calmed me slightly. It was nice to have someone to hold on to for a change. I was so zoned out, I didn't realize that we were outside.

Only when we reached Dean's "Baby" that I became partially aware of my surroundings.

"Hold on." Dean commanded, and I held on tighter.

Slowly, he moved his arm, so he only supported me with one now. He reached into his front pocket to pull out his keys. He unlocked the Impala and sat me in the passenger seat. He moved around the car and slid into the drivers seat.

"Look at me, sweater boy." Dean tilted my chin up slightly.

"Mmmn," I protested, closing my eyes.

"Oh no you don't." Suddenly, Dean honked the horn on his car. I jumped, my eyes open.

"What... What are you doing?" I moaned when Dean turned my head to examine the left side of my face.

"I'm not completely heartless." He removed his hand to start the Impala. He pulled out of the parking lot, and I realized he didn't know who I was, nor where I lived.

"Where are we going?" I stared at Dean, whose eyes were glued to the road.

"My place. No arguments." He added when I opened my mouth to protest.

"I'm fine, Dean, really." I lied. I was nervous about going to his house, considering the past few days.

"Liar. Your face is covered with blood." He snorted. "You don't look fine to me."

"That just makes me vulnerable, then."

Dean glanced at me. "So?"

"So," I exhaled. "How do I know you're not just getting me away from witnesses?"

"Of what?"

"Oh, I dunno, revenge?" I half expected Dean to elbow me in the face. But he didn't. Instead, he pulled over.

Dean turned to face me. "Why would I do that?"

"Uh, because I just beat Gordon to a pulp?" I guessed.

"You didn't beat Gordon in a fight. You couldn't."

I sighed. "Whether you believe me or not, why would you suddenly give a crap about me?"

Dean eyes moved downwards. "I guess I just feel responsible."

"For what?" I asked.

"I don't know. " Dean shrugged. "I guess it's a habit I gained from Sammy."

"Who's that?" I wondered.

"Hmm?" Dean met my eyes again. "Oh, uh, he's my little brother."

"The moose guy?"

Dean narrowed his eyes.

"At the docks?" I added.

"Oh, oh!" Dean realized. "Yeah, the moose guy. You thinks he looks like a moose, too?"

I nodded. "I assume that you think so to."

Dean smiled. "I thought I was the only one."

The conversation ended, and we were back on the road. I found that we'd been driving for a while when I looked at the time.

"How far away do you live?" I asked.

Dean smirked and pulled into the long driveway of a beautiful house. It was huge, like, mansion huge.

My jaw dropped in amazement. "You live here?"

Dean laughed at me. "Yeah, sorry about the long drive. Come on." He got out of the car and headed towards my side as I got out also. But my legs were not prepared to hold me up. And Dean caught me yet again. "Careful."

I pushed myself away from him, able to stand. "I'm fine."

Dean spun on his heels, leading the way as we walked on the pavement leading up to the front door. The yard was beautiful, with bright green grass and a forest background.

Three marble steps lead up to the see through glass door. I thought that was strange, anyone could break the glass and easily get in the house. Then I remembered there was such a thing called security systems. Rich people had those, right?

Dean gripped the golden handle, swinging the door open. The door wasn’t even fucking locked.

“Are you kidding me.” I mumbled low enough that Dean wouldn’t hear as I walked into the house.

I don’t know which I liked better, the inside or the outside. I slipped off my converse as Dean did before venturing further. The wooden floor was smooth against my feet. To the right sat two white couches and a (very) large flat screen. I assumed that was the living room. To my left was a beautiful kitchen, with brown cabinets and silver appliances. An island was surrounded by the marble counter tops, accompanied with bar stools. Straight ahead of me was a long hallway that lead to a bigger room from what I could see. There must have been glass walls or doors, because I could see the backyard. Wait - was that a pool?

Dean chuckled. I realized I was standing in the middle of the room when I looked at him, who was in the kitchen. He beckoned me to come into the kitchen before turning back to the sink. I half glided towards him. I peered over his shoulder to see what he was doing, and he began to turn around. He jumped when he saw me.

“Jesus!” Dean hit his back on the edge of the counter. “Personal space, dude.”

I took a step backwards, glancing down. “I get that a lot.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Dean examined my face when I looked back up. He grimaced.

“What?” I tilted my head.

“Well,” He squinted. “You’re definitely going to need stitches.”

“I am?” I reached up to touch my face only to flinch at the contact. Ow.

“Yep.” Dean pushed past me to head into what seemed like a bathroom. A huge bathroom, with a, Jacuzzi? He reached into the cabinet under the large sink and pulled out a black case/bag thing. He stood up and walked back, pulling out a bar stool. “Sit.”

Hesitantly, I sat down, watching him unzip the bag, surprised at its contents. “What are you doing?” I asked as Dean threaded a needle.

Dean paused to look at me. “Uh, I said you needed stitches, didn’t I?” He said it like it was a normal everyday thing for him. I gave him a glare that had him confused. “What?” He questioned like it wasn’t already obvious.

“You know how to do stitches?” I was shocked.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Dean waved the threaded needle at me. “Now hold still.”

I leaned away from him as he leaned closer. “Whoa-- are you mental?” I raised my hands up as a sign to get the fuck away from me.

“I don’t think so-- what’s your problem?” He looked at me like I was crazy.

I chuckled at his stupidity as I stood up. “There is no way in hell I’d let you stick me with a needle.”

“Oh, come on, it doesn’t hurt that bad.”

I sighed. “I know that-- I’m talking about the fact that I don’t exactly like you-- I pretty much hate you, actually.” I continued. “You’ve had me beaten and shamed-- now tell me, after everything you’ve done, how did you manage to come up with the impossible idea of me trusting you?” I was yelling now. “Only someone as idiotic as you could possibly believe that--”

“Well you shouldn’t have come up here then!” Dean yelled back.

“It was not my decision for you to drag me to your house!” I ran a hand through my hair. “You practically kidnapped me!”

“See, the keyword is ‘practically’ in this situation--”

“Oh don’t start.” I growled.

Dean snorted. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what I’m referring to.”

“No, I really don’t.”

I rolled my eyes. “I am referring to your capability to completely stray from the subject at hand.”

Dean stared at me with a dumbfounded expression. “In English?”

“Fuck you.”

He stared daggers at me now. “You son of a--”

He lunged at me. I just barley ducked away in time to make a run for it. What I didn’t expect was the slide of my socks on the wooden floor. I ended up sliding across the floor, hitting my back against the corner of the hallway.

“Dammit.” I hissed at the sharp pain spreading though my back.

I pushed myself up with my hands, noticing Dean was doing the same on the other side of the room. I guess we both fell. I finally pulled myself into standing as Dean did, and I sped down the hallway, trying to ignore the ache where I slammed into the corner. I turned left at the end of the hallway, running up the spiral staircase I found there, Dean hot on my trail.

I stopped on the second story, searching for some sort of escape. But I only saw a balcony, with the glass door open, below it a lit up pool in the now dark night. I heard Dean behind me, and I knew that I had no other option but to jump or fight. I preferred to avoid a fight, and I choose the balcony.

I let out a breath. “Crap.” I ran for the edge, and brought my feet up on the railing.

“Hey!” I turned my head to find Dean was only a few feet away, and I panicked, launching myself over the edge, falling.

My body smacked the waters surface, knocking the air out of me, and I was surrounded by the surprisingly warm pool water. I sunk down in the deep end and my feet hit the bottom. I tried to launch myself back to the surface, but my clothes held me down. I clawed furiously at the water, fighting my way to the top. I was getting desperate, my lungs burning from loss of air.

I decided I needed to lose the sweater if I was going to make it back to the surface. I struggled to pull the large sweater over my head, eventually succeeding. I let it sink to the bottom as I swam to the top.

I gasped when I finally hit the surface, and I was hit with a blast of freezing cold air as I tred the water. I swam to the edge of the pool as fast as I could and heaved myself out. My feet were still in the water when I collapsed on the concrete. I coughed up the remaining water in my lungs and rolled onto my back. I gasped in pain, arching my back up off of the ground. I rolled back onto my stomach, gasping and coughing.

I never wanted to move, but I dragged myself up to stand, feeling dizzy and sick. I reached my hand to touch my back, finding an alarming amount of blood draped across my fingers. I sighed, glancing up at the balcony. Dean was gone.

 

DEAN'S POV

 

“Oww.“ Fuck that hurt.

I used the couch to lift myself up just as the sweater guy stood back up. He glanced at me before taking off down the hallway. I ran after him, following him up the stairs. I grew closer to him as he stumbled up the spiral staircase. He probably wasn’t used to running around in circles over and over, so he might be dizzy. He stopped at the second floor, and I had almost caught him when he ran towards the balcony.

Holy fuck. He’s gonna jump! Is he mental?

“Hey!” I yelled out, trying to stop him. But right when he saw me, he freaked out and jumped.

He fucking jumped.

“What the hell!” I ran to the balcony and looked over the edge. The pool water rippled where I saw a dark form in the water. I expected him to resurface right away, but when he didn’t, I started to worry.

“Come on, don't make me go in after you.” I muttered. I saw him moving under the water, almost like he was thrashing. I began to panic when he’d been under for about a minute. I breathed out a sigh of relief when he finally came back up for air, but he was surrounded by tinted red water. I ran back downstairs.

When I’d made it to the sliding glass door that lead out to the backyard, I saw sweater boy lying on the concrete surrounding the pool, shirtless. Or should I say sweater less. Either way, why wasn’t he wearing anything on his torso? And his glasses were missing. Actually, he was nicely toned, maybe even hot.

“Stop it, Dean.” I scolded myself. I reached for the door’s handle right when I heard a coughing fit. I looked up to see the sweater guy arching his back up with a pained look on his face. That’s when I finally opened the door.

 

CAS' POV

 

Dean was gone. Then where was he? I turned around to see Dean opening the glass sliding door leading out to the backyard. How many sliding doors could there be? Did they have some sort of obsession or something?

My thoughts cut off as Dean started running towards me, yelling something. I turned around and made a break for the woods across the yard. I was well aware that I had no shoes or sweater on, and I was soaked, but I didn’t really care. I would be safe in the forest.

I sprinted down the dip in the grassy land, my legs burning with every step. I was only a few yards away from the first line of trees when my vision began to blur and I felt light-headed. My pace slowed as I started weaving through the plants and trees.

“Ahh!” I gasped at the sudden pain in my feet as I touched down on the underbrush. I slipped behind a tree to examine my feet to find burs hooked onto my socks. But I made a mistake in stopping, and I couldn’t stand back up on my own. I leaned against the ruff bark, careful to keep off of my lower back, and caught my breath. I went over the events that had just taken place.

_Okay, I had been “kidnapped” by Dean, but he supposedly wanted to help me. Now why would he help me, after everything? It didn’t make any sense. And how would he know how to stitch someone up? Were his parents medical people or something? That would explain the amount of money they had. Now he was after me and-- shit, I left my bag behind. Shit shit shit. My phone was in there, along with everything else I need. Ugh, why does my life have to suck so bad? I’ve got to go back. Maybe the front door was still unlocked? I could also retrieve my converse._

Holding my breath, I looked out from behind the tree. Dean was no where in sight. In fact, my vision was much more blurry than usual. A strike of realization hit me when I noticed my glasses were gone. Shiiiiiittttttt.

I ran away from the woods, heading towards the side of the house. The burs on my socks dug into my feet as I sprinted to the mansion. Once I’d reached the side of the house, I collapsed against the wall and caught my breath. I shivered as a gust of wind blew past me. My jeans were still soaked, and it was getting cold. That only made me hurry more.

I glanced around the area, and when I found no one in sight, I carefully made my way to the front of the large house. Dean's Impala was still parked in the driveway, but no one was there. I bolted to the front door, and cautiously glanced inside. Dean wasn't there, either. I turned the handle, thankful that it was still unlocked. I slipped inside, locating my converse and bag a few feet away. I grabbed both, and hightailed it out of there.

I stopped at the sidewalk and put my shoes back on. When I slung my bag over my shoulder, it hit my injured back, causing me to wince. But it covered up the wound, so I sucked it up and carried on down the pavement.

My jeans were still wet, and I was still shirtless and cold. I was glad the street lights actually worked here. In my neighborhood they didn't. Usually, I would use the moon's light to find my way through the darkness filling the alleyways and streets.

* * * * *

To be perfectly honest, I had absolutely no idea where I was going. I was just a guy wandering down a freshly paved road, an occasional vehicle passing by. My condition gained me confused and mocking stares from everyone I came into viewing distance with. The high class rich snobs from this area must frown upon poor kids passing through their territory.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this far away from the ocean. I usually stayed closer to the beach, but the view from here was extraordinary. The moon rose far above the water, a silver reflection that brought a small smile to my face. Natures beauty was unbeatable, and I was one of the few people that appreciated that. It disappointed me that no one gave the little joys in life the credit they deserved.

I found that I had migrated from the sidewalk to the middle of the road, when a light shone in front of me, headlights. I veered off to the side of the road, squinting my eyes at the approaching car. It looked like a Corvette, a black Corvette. That seemed to be picking up speed-- that was strange. But the car only grew faster as it turned in my direction.

My eyes widened as I realized that I was being targeted. I ran onto the sidewalk just in time to avoid getting hit. I looked over my shoulder at the car speeding down the road, a hand sticking out and flipping me off. I blinked a few times, running a hand through my partially dry hair, breathing quickly. What the hell was that all about? With that, I sprinted in the opposite direction. I was unsure of where I was going, just anywhere but here.


	5. Keeps Me Up At Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's haunting me, making it harder to breathe, harder to breathe, oh..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omc guys I'm so sorry I haven't updated in forever. I started this chapter right after I uploaded the previous one I swear. I got caught up in schoolwork and I didn't work on this for a few weeks solid and then I got writer's block so I'm sorry. Fan fiction before school, I know. I had even thought about splitting this chapter in half so I could upload something, but I'm trying to keep these chapters longer rather than shorter. I haven't had time to edit this yet, but I hope you still enjoy it! Comments and criticism are greatly appreciated as always!

I eventually called Gabriel, who found me and picked me up on his motorcycle.  He gave me his leather jacket since I wasn't bleeding anymore.  I found comfort in Gabe's body heat as I used him as a shield from the wind.  He went out of his way to always be there for me when I needed him.  He's the one who taught me how to fight and defend myself when he couldn't help me- which happened a lot when I was in middle school.  Soon people understood that I was stronger than them, considering I'd broken a variety of their body parts.  Without Gabe, I would have been completely and utterly alone.  My parents hated me, and so did the siblings of mine that weren't dead.

I trusted Gabriel with my life.  I never wore a helmet while riding on his motorcycle, I trusted him to avoid an accident.  I think I was the reason he wasn't some drunk asshole who smoked pot and had not a care in the world.  I was his responsibility, his little brother.  I didn't even need to ask if he'd sacrifice his life for me, he would.

We rode through the sleeping city for awhile before we reached the old neighborhood we called home.  Gabriel parked his motorcycle on the curb in front of our house, and we got off it and walked inside, and uncomfortable silence between us.  Once I'd closed the front door, Gabe turned to look at me.

I sighed, preparing for an interrogation. 

"Why are you all torn up?" Gabe crossed his arms over his chest.

I sighed before answering.  "I got into a couple of fights."  Gabe rubbed his eyes with one hand.

"Cassie... I thought that was over." Gabe groaned.

I focused on the stairwell beside me, an unplesant feeling flowing through me. "So did I." I whispered.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Nope."

Gabe ran a hand through his blond hair, contemplating something. "How should we go about this?"  He thought aloud to himself, pacing slightly.  "Well, we could move again-"

"No, Gabe" I interrupted him.

“Cassie…”

I turned my whole body towards him.  “I said no, Gabe.”

He closed his eyes, looking pained.  “I took you with me to avoid these things, not make you go through them again.”

I let my head drop and I glared at the scratch marks that were scattered across the old wooden floor. My shoulders followed suit and slumped. I heard Gabe let out an exaggerated exhale at my defeated position.

“Cassie. They’re letting people go at the company.”

I snapped my head back up to see the mix of stress and worry on my brother’s face. His brown eyes resembled a distress signal that wasn’t being answered. Only now did I notice the bruises under his eyes, the way he was fighting to keep them open. He was working himself to death trying to hold on to this job.

“They didn’t…” I chocked back the lump in my throat.

“No, not yet, anyways.” Gabe offered a small forced smile, so lifeless that I couldn’t prevent the silent tears from invading my cheeks. This was not Gabe, not my brother, not the cocky son of a bitch that I lived with. These were the demons he hid away behind that seductive smirk, that bouncy attitude. He was completely drained and it was all because of me.

He could have just left me for the vultures I called a family. He should have. He really, really should have. I told him to go without me every time he insisted that I run away with him. But he just had to carry me to the car that night. He’s lucky I had taken NyQuil before bed- well, unlucky, actually. Now he has to provide for me and look after me and hide us from our family all on his own. And it was killing him.

I squeezed my eyes shut, wincing at the pain in my face. I spoke in ragged breaths.

“I…I’m so sorry, Gabe. I’m…I’m sorry.” I reached my hands up to grab fistfuls of my dark hair as sobs began to rack my body. I sank down to the floor, holding my head in my hands as I sat and cried. I rested the backs of my hands on my knees as I curled up into a shaking ball. I was unaware of Gabe, who had dropped to his knees and sat in front of me, his hand rubbing my left shoulder.

“What are you apologizing for?” Gabe asked once I calmed down a bit.

I drew in a sharp breath as I glanced up. “Me.”

Gabe narrowed his eyes in confusion.

I bit my quivering lip. “For everything… who I am, what I’ve done, for the worthless piece of shit that I am…”

“Cassie.”

“You should’ve never taken me with you, Gabe. I’m just a burden.” I closed my eyes softly this time.

“You are _not_ a burden, Castiel.” I opened my eyes when Gabe used my full first name. He seemed shocked by my previous statement.

“You’re my baby brother, and I love you. You give me a purpose to get up in the morning, a reason to think before doing. If I didn’t have to take care of your ass, what would I do besides get drunk and high and laid every night until I eventually killed myself?” Gabriel’s tone was full of pure seriousness, along with his facial expression.

“Never think of yourself as a burden to me. You keep me sane. Okay?” Gabe grabbed my wrists ever so gently, as if I was a cracked porcelain doll, on the verge of completely falling apart. I let out a sigh as I nodded once. He pulled me forwards into a brief hug, which I gladly accepted. I leaned into him, letting his warmth surround me and push away all of the evil thoughts that clouded my mind.

“Okay.”

. . . . .

DEAN’S POV

“Dean! Let’s go!” Sam called from the front door as he struggled to shove his brown shoes on.

I stared at him as he kicked the floor, trying to get his foot to fit in his left shoe. “You know that you could just untie the laces, right?”

“No, Dean, I had no idea.” Sam said sarcastically.

I sighed, a small smile tugging at my lips. “And you're the smart one.”

“How about you shut up.”

I chuckled at Sam’s retaliation as we finally headed out the door.

Jo was leaning against Baby when we walked outside. She turned to us once she heard the door close behind me.

“Shotgun!” She called out when Sam opened his mouth to say the same. He frowned as we piled into the Impala and began driving towards Jess’ house, soon knee deep in a conversation about plaid.

“But that’s all you ever wear! At least Dean alternates.” Jo exclaimed as Sam rolled his eyes.

“No it’s not! I wear other stuff.” Sam argued.

“That is the biggest lie I have ever heard.” I glanced at Sam through the rear-view mirror.

“I do not have an obsession with plaid.”

“What are you wearing right now.” Jo looked him over.

Sam glanced down at himself. “…Plaid…”

“See? Obsessed. Case closed.”

“I wear other things.”

“Like what?”

“Um, I wear… pants, and socks, and boxers, and- “

“Your boxers are plaid.” I stated.

A victory smile tugged at Jo’s lips as she raised her eyebrows. “I win. Maybe I should become a lawyer.”

Sam made a face of annoyance and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms as I pulled into the driveway of a brick house. Jess jumped up from the porch, her dark blue scarf and tight blond curls blowing in the light breeze. Jess galloped (Yes, she literally galloped) across the bright green lawn and into the backseat of the Impala, pushing Sam over to steal his previous seat. I backed out of the driveway and grinned, looking over to see that Jo wore the same expression.

We both agreed that Jess was perfect for Sam. She was funny, daring, and absolutely gorgeous. And even though they hadn’t admitted it yet, they loved each other to no end. It didn’t need to be vocalized, anyone and everyone could see it in the way they looked at each other. They’re only freshmen, but I hope they don’t screw this up. I envied them, it’s more than I’d ever had.

. . . . .

After driving for God knows how long, we arrived at the large building that I refer to as hell. I parked Baby in the back parking lot along with all of the other vehicles, cutting her engine before swinging her door open and stepping out. I shut my door in unison with Jo as Sam and Jess got out. They immediately walked over to the school’s back door, disappearing from sight. Jo began after them, before she stopped on her tracks, glancing back at me when she realized that I wasn’t following.

“Dean.” She strolled back to where I stood next to the Impala.

“Yeah?” I sighed, leaning against the car’s side.

She halted in front of me and crossed her arms. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes narrowed at my claim as I passed by her. My boots slipped slightly on the dewy emerald grass as I made my way across the large patch. My shoulders were slumped and my head hung low, my hands buried in my jacket pockets. What was my deal? I had been moping on and off for over a week for no apparent reason. At least, I didn't think there was.

Once I’d reached the door, I pushed the shield of glass out of my way with more force than necessary. I scowled at the way it hit the wall with a loud thud. No bodies littered the hallway to hear my rather noisy entrance, due to the fact that I had arrived late. My sudden burst of frustration confused me as I felt like punching something.

This feeling was going to drive me insane. I felt guilty, but I couldn't figure out what I felt guilty about.

I directed my fist towards the wall - _oww_. _Fuck_. I held the wrist of my injured hand as I winced at my torn knuckles. I sighed and looked around to make sure no one saw that before I headed in the direction of my first period class.

When I walked in, my eyes met with a familiar explosion of blue, filled with so much hurt and anger that I froze on the spot. That’s when everything clicked.

. . . . .

CAS’ POV

Every night was a restless night, a few hours of sleep at best. My thoughts clouded my mind over the past week, ever since the Dean incident. Not even music could drown them out. I couldn’t fathom why it bothered me as much as it did. It’s not like it was the first time something like this has happened.

Each passing day, I stayed home from school, under Gabriel’s command. He had served as my “doctor” for the past eight days, checking up on the stitches he gave me at least twice a day. He tried to keep me entertained while he was home, but sitting around doing nothing got really boring really fast while he was at work. Who knew one could watch over half a season of a TV show every day? Charlie wasn’t kidding.

I had grown antsy over my break and demanded to attend school the upcoming Monday. A long debate with Gabe went down, but I eventually convinced him that I couldn’t hide away forever. He didn’t like it, but he agreed to my terms as long as I agreed to his (which wasn’t very hard considering I never let my phone out of my sight anyways) which included me keeping in contact with him at all times. I almost punched him when he suggested I also cover up the evidence with cover up. If someone found out that I had used make up I‘d be in for it. His teasing grin told me that was the point. Kinky bastard.

Soon after that the realization hit me that Gabe owed cover up and I had to ask about it. He had gotten all flustered (which he never does on a regular occasion) and eventually caved and told me he was seeing someone. Of course I had to tease him and pester him with questions for the rest of the weekend, and by Sunday night he was probably ready to throw me out the window, which I had no problem with. I knew that he would leave especially early for work the next morning and I could have the breaking dawn all to myself.

I slept on and off between 2:00 am and 4:00 am until I decided I wouldn't gain any sleep anyways. I laid in bed for awhile, sketching in the dim light of the lamp beside my bed. I was careful to get the shading perfect, every detail precise and flawless. Her lips were always the hardest part to master, thin, slightly open, and damn this was hard. I sighed, setting the pad of paper down on my bed as I swung my legs over the edge and pushed myself up.

The wooden floor was cool beneath my bare feet, what was left of the moonlight reflected off of its surface through the window. I walked over to the other side of the room to the large oak dresser that sat there. I pulled open the top drawer and found a pair of black socks. I shut the drawer and leaned up against the wall as I slipped them on.

I went over to my bedroom door, slowly turning the knob and pushing it open. I poked my head out to glance down the narrow hall towards Gabe’s room. His door was open, and I couldn't hear or see him. I looked down the stairs, trying to determine if Gabe was in the kitchen. If he was there I would hear him, since he is never usually this quiet. I decided that he had already left for work and I opened to door the rest of they way.

I turned back into my room and back to my dresser, which had a music player resting on top of it. My phone was already plugged in when I clicked on my favorite play list consisting of The Neighbourhood, Lorde, Muse, Coldplay, Lana Del Rey, that sort of thing. I turned up the volume so that the music player was shaking with sound vibrations and I could barley hear myself think. Once I was content, I threw on a baggy grey t-shirt and threw myself on the bed.

I thought of various topics as I stared up at the eggshell ceiling, light patterns dancing across its surface as the wind shook the branches on the tree outside my window. I thought of Gabriel drowning in an ocean of embarrassment as he answered my questions about this mystery girlfriend of his that he “forgot” to mention in my presence earlier. He tried to make a quick escape when I turned around after hearing a noise come from the kitchen. He ran into the wall.

A smile played on my lips as I thought of the loud thud his face had made against the drywall, the way he stepped back in a daze. The way he told me to can it before racing down the hallway and up the stairs to his room. I could tell that he really liked her- I knew my brother. He never even told me her name. I’d have to ask about that later when he came back. If he came back. Gabe might’ve packed his bags and moved back to our parents house just to avoid my ongoing interrogation.

My happiness was short-lived as a melancholy expression fell across my face. Memories of my childhood crawled out from the back of my mind and clouded my thoughts. I remembered my multiple siblings, my mom, my dad. I remembered the place I used to call home, the streets, the city.

I remember the one time when we played cops and robbers and got lost in the alleyways. Raphael had to find the way back before our parents got suspicious, in which he succeeded until Michael caved and told them everything, getting us all in trouble. It’s not like they really cared about us though, they just didn't want to be held liable if one of us got ourselves killed or something.

I remember when Anna and I attempted to make cookies for Uriel’s birthday and ended up catching a hand towel on fire. I burned the palm of my hand attempting to throw the towel in the sink.

I remember the time Michael tried to do a back flip over Gabe and ended up breaking his hand. I freaked out when I saw how deformed it looked.

I remember when I took up skateboarding and ran into the neighbor’s mailbox one day, breaking it in half. No one knew it was me until I told Anna and Gabe a few years later.

I recall the week after my 14th birthday. The day I learned what true fear was. The day that scarred me for the rest of my life. The day I found out how to hate.

Gabe had talked to Anna and I about telling our parents he was bi for years before. He had been extremely nervous and excited that he wouldn’t have to hide that part of himself anymore. He had no doubt in his mind that our parents would love him unconditionally and always support him, and I think that was the worst part. He had complete and utter faith in them.

Anna and I had sat on the stairs, watching as Gabriel asked my parents to sit down on the black leather couch in the living room. Right when he told them, he smiled slightly, exhaling as he awaited our parents response. His smile faded quicker than it had came as a look of pure disgust formed on their faces and burned in their eyes. I exchanged a worried glance with Anna before focusing my attention back on Gabe. Our dad stood up slowly, towering over Gabriel as he demanded that Gabe repeat what he just said.

Gabe hesitantly repeated his exact words, avoiding eye contact with our father. He began shouting awful things at him, saying that that was unacceptable. When Gabe looked back up, the disappointment in his eyes turned into pure terror at our dad undid his belt buckle, ripping it out from the loops on this slacks with a snap. Gabe leaned back into the couch as our father took a step towards him, holding the brown leather belt in his left hand.

Gabe screamed when our dad first struck him with the leather strip, hitting his arm. I froze in horror, and so did Anna. Gabe let out a tortured sob as he was struck again and again. My mother just sat there, a look of satisfaction resting on her features. Something clicked in me then. I tried to get up and help Gabe, but Anna held me back in an attempt to protect me. I broke free of her grasp as Gabe let out a bloodcurdling screech.

I ran in front of Gabriel, putting myself in between him and our father. His voice was cold when he spoke.

“Castiel. Go to your room. This doesn’t concern you.”

I glared up at him. “No.”

A flicker of surprise flashed through his eyes. “Don’t you ever dare talk back to me again. Now Go. To. Your. Room.”

“No.” My voice cracked slightly as I repeated my answer.

“This doesn't concern you, Castiel. GO. NOW.” He growled.

“This does concern me.” I answered, trembling with fear.

Our father was about to say something else when I cut him off. “Dad.” I hesitated when Gabe whispered a plea for me to stop. I didn't listen. Why didn't I listen?

I gulped and drew in a shaky breath as a tear rolled down my cheek. It was made aware to me what would happen if I told them, but I couldn't bare to see Gabe in anymore pain. So I closed my eyes and told them.

“…I’m gay.”

I really shouldn't have done that. It was bad enough that Gabe was, but having two sons that happened to favor the other gender was the tipping point. I couldn't remember exactly what happened right after that. But the part I remember as clear as crystal is the searing pain of the leather slicing through my back, Anna and Gabe’s screams of terror in the distance, my cries echoing throughout the large room as I was mercilessly beaten, struck again and again and again. The flashing red in my eyes before the world faded into black.

Turns out I had fainted from blood loss, and Gabe and Anna weren't allowed to take me to a hospital, but they had to keep me alive, or else. So they looked up how to stitch wounds and all that crap. That’s how we learned how to take care of ourselves when one of us got into a fight or something.

It took me awhile to realize that I was crying, my sobs muffled by the loud music. I hugged myself and rolled onto my side, letting my tears fall onto the bed. My shoulders jerked with each breath as I listened to the music, trying to calm myself down. I could almost hear Anna’s soothing voice in my head.

_It’s okay, Castiel. Shh. You’re alright. I’ll protect you._

. . . . .

History was absolutely dreadful. Everyone there are such incoherent _idiots_. I've barely even made a dent in the school year and these people were already driving me insane. It hurt my eyes just to look at them. You could just see their stupidity floating in a circle of dumbass above their heads. All these girls wearing yoga pants and skin tight shirts that couldn't read out of a damn textbook. I don’t get the new fashion trend with guys either. Sagging just makes you look like you crapped your pants and people find that _cool_.

I shuffled in a zombie like manner as I entered my next class, which I was strangely not in the mood for. I couldn't grasp why, so I ignored the unexplained feeling and found my desk in the back corner, carelessly throwing my bag on its surface and slumping back into the chair. A few students turned to observe the slow healing wounds on my face, and I glared back at them. I had an especially strong hate for them today for no particular reason that I was aware of. I just hated everyone and everything at the moment, and this morning hadn't helped. At all. I'm pretty sure I looked as bad as I felt, people just wouldn't quit staring at me in a fearful but admiring state. It wasn't like I'd done anything to earn their respect. Had I?

I hadn't realized that class had begun until I saw someone enter the room out of the corner of my eye. I directed my attention to the slow moving figure as he stopped dead on his tracks once he met my gaze. Those beautiful emerald eyes caused an even stronger surge of hate to stir within me. It was _him_. Well that explains everything. I was dreading the moment when I would have to see that freckle-dappled face again.

For a second, I thought I saw a flash of guilt flicker across his eyes. But he couldn't feel guilty. He was incapable of that feeling, I'm sure. And even if he could, that impossible flash of guilt soon traded itself for a burning hatred, which I gladly returned with a sneer.

Apparently our feelings toward each other were evident, because the teacher had to clear her throat to snap us out of our trance. Dean broke the stare, making his way over to the left back corner where all of his demons sat, and class went on with a different taste in the air.

All throughout the day, I became more and more noticed by my peers. Some of the more quiet kids even smiled at me and I was confused as crap. No one even knew I existed until today it seemed.

On my way to "lunch", someone I'd never talked to before said hi to me when I passed her in the hallway. I don't think you get just how weird this was for me. People were being  _nice_ to me. From school. Like what. How am I supposed to respond to that? I mean I said hi back, so I think I managed not to look too surprised. I hope.

I hadn't seen Dean for the whole rest of the day, so that was kind of awesome. And for once, I felt like I fit in. For a few moments, I was more than just another speck in the shadow. I went home with a small spark of happiness in my chest. It was microscopic, but still there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omc guys I'm so sorry I haven't updated in forever. I started this chapter right after I uploaded the previous one I swear. I got caught up in schoolwork and I didn't work on this for a few weeks solid and then I got writer's block so I'm sorry. Fan fiction before school, I know. I had even thought about splitting this chapter in half so I could upload something, but I'm trying to keep these chapters longer rather than shorter. I haven't had time to edit this yet, but I hope you still enjoyed it! Comments and criticism are greatly appreciated as always! 
> 
> And just so you know most (if not all) of the song quotes in the summaries are by The Neighbourhood :D (aka one of the best bands in existence)  
> I will list the artist somewhere if it's not them.


	6. Wicked Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When I wake up, I'm afraid, somebody else might take my place..."

Tuesday passed with ease, no sign of Dean or his minions. More students noticed my existence, some even acknowledged it. This was a whole new experience for me, and I think it was a positive one too. Gabe had asked about this new change in my attitude, and I told him I had no idea. And I didn't, really. I mean, I knew that my classmates were actually conversing with me in a kind manner, but why would I care so much? Why did I feel satisfaction for something I never did?

When Wednesday came around, that's when I first started piecing it all together.

In between my first and second period, Dean had approached me in the hallway, blocking the route to my next class. When I tried to maneuver around him, he stepped in that direction as well. I sighed, glancing up to meet his gaze.

"Excuse me." I tried to step the other way, but he mimicked my movements then as well.

"Where do you think you're going, Sweater Boy." Dean sneered.

"To my next period, you assclown." Both Dean and I looked around when we heard a few 'ooo's from a forming group of students that stood back against the lockers, watching us. I snapped my head back to glare at Dean as he spoke.

"Yeah, I can see that's where you intended on going."

"Well it's nice to know you're not a complete dumbass, but I've really got to get to class." I heard some more comments from the small crowd as I began to push past Dean. He grabbed my arm for a second and whispered a threat in my ear.

"You don't wan't to fuck with me, Sweater Boy." He threatened. "I will go to great lengths."

As soon as he let go, he turned to walk in the opposite direction, never looking back. I continued glareing at him until he vanished behind a corner, out of sight. I glanced over to where two members of the group broke off from the rest to approach me. The sandy haired one spoke first.

"Dude, that was kind of awesome." He offered me a small smile, which I returned.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Um, thanks?"

"Do you realized what you just did?" The one with the cleft in his chin asked, wide eyed.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Yeah. What about it?"

They looked at each other before looking back at me.

"What about it?" Cleft-chin seemed shocked. "You just insulted Dean Winchester!"

"I know. What's the big deal?"

"Do you know who he is?" Sand-hair raised his eyebrows.

I snorted. "Um, an asshole with serious personality issues? Yeah I know who he is, and I honestly don't give a crap." The bell rang, and I swore. "Shit, I'm late. See you around?" I spun on my heels, not waiting for and answer as I hurried down the emptying hallway.

. . . . .

My language teacher didn't appreciate me being late, but she let it slide since I wasn't at all annoying or rude during her class, at least as far as she was concerned. Dean never showed up, but his minions did. Every once and awhile they would look my way, disscussing something among themselves. Some other people in the class noticed this and were distracted from the teacher, which clearly irked her. She said something about it multiple times, but they just wouldn't quit. I couldn't fathom why they took as much interest as they did in my situation.

Why were people taking interest in me all of a sudden? Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

I decided to believe it was a good thing, because some were starting to turn heads in my direction in both Physics and Calc. as well. It felt a little like they were violating me with their eyes, but I may just not be used to the attention.

When my lunch period came around, I rushed outside before anyone else could approach me. This whole thing was honestly starting to creep me out, and I needed a break. Is this how normal people usually felt?

I strolled across the fairley wide stretch of overgrown grass, which would need to be cut soon. My black denim bag was slightly heavier than usual due to the large amout of coursework I'd brought with me. A strong gust of wind tugged at my sweater, blowing whisps of my hair around. I shivered as the breeze chilled my skin through the fuzzy fabric. The sky was blocked by large dark clouds which seemed to predict a storm. That thought only made me speed up my pace before I finally reached the willow tree.

The branches swung to the right side of my view as I ducked under them, letting out a breath. I sped up a little bit before effortlessly leaping up to grab a thick branch, my legs positioned against the truck to push me up. After a few seconds, I was on top of the branch, my legs dangling from either side. I leaned back against the trunk's rough bark, wincing slightly as I slid my backpack off of my shoulder, setting it down infront of me.

I quickly undid the two silver buckles holding the flap down before lifting it up and over the main part of the bag, where my supplies were held. I dug out my algebra homework and my headphones as I casually sat in the old tree, a storm brewing in the distant rumbling sky.

. . . . .

After about ten minutes, a loud clap of thunder startled me out of my productive state. I heard someone swear as the heavy rain followed with a flash of lightning. I looked down, alarmed as a figure found its way under the branches, seeking cover. I reconized him almost immediatly.

Dean jumped when he saw me, and took a step back. "The hell are you doing here?" He asked, seeming genuenly confused.

"I could ask you the same thing." I glared back at him, yanking my headphones from my ears.

I took him a minute to process that I was in the tree. "How'd you get up there?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I climbed up here. Why?"

Dean glanced over his shoulder before looking back up at me. "Yeah, okay."

Confusion filled me when I found no sarcasm in his tone. Dean made his way over to the trunk, grabbing the branch right besides the one I was on.

"What are you doing?" I sat up, turning my body towards him slightly.

He pulled himself up, swinging one foot around the branch. "I'm coming up."

I stared at him as he attempted to climb onto the branch. I chuckled when he finally made it on top of the branch, laying on his stomach as he breathed heavily.

"Amature." I smirked.

"Come on." He whined breathlessly. "I'd like to see you try it."

"Oh I have." I stated, finding the fact that I was already in the tree pretty obvious. "More than once, actually."

Dean mumbled something incohedrent under his breath as he sat up. "Well you've had practice, so that's cheating."

"How is that cheating?"

"I don't know. It just is."

I raised my eyes at him. "What are you doing here, anyways?"

He looked at me. "What are you doing here?"

"I asked you first."

"No you didn't."

"Just answer the question."

Dean pursed his lips before answering. "I needed to get away from those dumbasses." He made a look of disgust as he gestured to the school building. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "They won't shut up about us."

I glanced at the building suspisiously before looking back at him. "What about us?"

"About our "relationship"" He quoted.

"Relationship?" I tilted my head.

"Yeah." He scowled at thin air. "Like as in you, and me, together."

It took me a minute to process that statement before I burst out laughing. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah." He stared at me. "Why are you laughing?"

"They're shipping us." I chuckled. "Holy crap." Dean seemed dumbfounded at my vocabulary. "Do you even know what a ship is?"

He shook his head. "No clue. What is it?"

"I'll tell you later." I smiled down at my algebra work. "That's hilarious."

"Why is that hilarious?" I looked up to see Dean narrowing his eyes at me, suspicious.

I dragged my tounge across my bottom teeth. "You? And me? _Together_? Like that would ever happen."

He narrowed his eyes even more. "I still don't see why that's so funny."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, think about it like this. Why would I ever be into you? I mean, come on." I gestured towards him. "You may be plesant to look at, but it's the core I'm concerned about."

Dean wore an expression of disapproval. "I could say the same about you."

My eyes flickered to my hands after a moment. "I don't doubt it."

My defenses started to slip for half a second before I caught myself. I was sure as hell not gonna open up to Dean.

I decided to let that go for now, changing the mood. "So, you think I'm pretty?" I smirked at him.

"What? No... I never said _that_." Dean glanced down.

"But that's what you meant."

"Okay, yeah. You got me there. But in my defense, you said the same thing."

"Well, it's not my fault that I like guys." I froze right after the words left my mouth.

Dean's head snapped up. "Wait- are you...?"

A sudden rush of memories hit me like a textbook. I grabbed the strap of my bag with a white-knuckled grip as my heart began to beat a lillte faster. My eyes widened as a flash of lightning struck, and suddenly Dean seemed a whole lot more threatening. I leaned away from him as he seemed to notice the change of look in my eyes.

"Whoa there, Sweater Boy." He seemed both confused, and maybe even concerned. "You okay?"

I blinked a few times, the panic swelling in my chest making it harder to breathe. "Yeah, yeah. I just, um, I need to get to class."

I didn't stick around for a reaction. I lept off of the branch I had been sitting on, slinging my bag over my shoulder as I ran out from under the willow. My legs protested at the sudden movement as the rain pelted my body, blurring my glasses. The grass was slick with water as I sprinted across the field, the bottoms of my jeans already damp. I didn't stop until I hit the pavement.

. . . . .

As much as I hated the idea, I stayed at school instead of racing home. I went straight to the library, since it was my study hall period. There was absolute silence in the library, no one else was usually in it besides me at this time. I enjoyed the absence of people as I sat down at one of the rectangular wooden tables. It gave me time to think.

Dean and I had actually had a civilized conversation not fifthteen minutes ago. There was barely any hostilaty at all. Talking to him had made me strangly relaxed, and kind of happy. And that confused me.

I layed my my head down on my arms, closing my eyes. I really needed to pull my crap together if I wanted to survive at this school. If I couldn't trust myself to keep my mouth shut, then before I'd know it, I would become my classmates favorite punching bag, once again. What would I do then? Would I repeat my middleschool strategy of fighting back, and being feared by almost all the people I knew? Or could I control myself and just take it? Would Gabe insist on moving again?

I didn't want to lose Charlie. She has been my closest friend ever since we met in our freshman year. Sure, she attended a different school than me, but that didn't really change anything. I knew that I was her closest friend too. She was considered the weirdo of her school that everyone was "too cool" to hang out with, but it's their loss. She is the most amazing and outgoing friend I have ever had. She kind of reminded me of Anna, in a way.

I guess that I might even miss Meg a little bit, too. She was annoying and persistant most of the time, but on very rare occasions, she could be very sweet. I would miss that side of her.

 _And Dean_. A voice in the back of my mind whispered. I made a face, scolding myself.

"Shut up." I muttered, talking to myself. But I didn't doubt it. Maybe I would miss him for some insane unexplainable reason.

I groaned into the crook of my arm, egsausted. After a few minutes, I began to doze off, the dark quiet of the library dragging me down into the depths of sleep.

. . . . .

My eyes shot open to the ringing of a bell filling my ears. I sat up, immediatly regreting that descision. I rubbed the kink in my neck, making a noise of frustration. I glanced around, realizing that I was still in the empty library. I glanced up at the clock, my eyes widening. I had missed Latin, and it was the end of the day by now. Had I slept through the last two bells?

Frustration surged through me as I stood up, only to catch myself when a dizzy spell throbbed in my head. Once I was able, I made my way out of the library and into the hallway, heading towards my locker.

After navigating my way through the school, I finally got around the students that flooded the halls. I opened the blue locker labled #123, (I know, 1, 2, 3, haha very funny) narrowing my eyes at what I found. Sitting on top of the rest of my books was my algebra work. Hesitantly, I picked both the book and notebook up, examining them.

I thought I'd left these in the willow.

It took me a minute to remember that I had indeed left my work in the tree.

Then how did it get here?

I quickley ruled out the option that my algebra could teleport, and that left me with one other solution. Dean. I glanced around behind my shoulder, scanning the area for him. I didn't find him, though, and something like disappointment pooled into my stomach. I thought it strange that I felt that way, but the emotion felt appropriate for some reason. But it still made no sense to me.

. . . . .

DEAN'S POV

\---(previously that day)---

Shortly after I had stormed off, I caught sight of Benny in the hallway. He was leaning up against the wall when he saw me. He made his way over to me, a lit cigarette in his hand.

"Hey." He said as he walked towards me.

I drew in a deep breath. "I'm pretty sure it's against school regulations to smoke indoors."

He quirked a smile. "I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to be smoking at all, according to school rules." He brought the cigarette to his lips.

I nodded, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth as I glanced down.

"Okay." I saw a faint cloud of smoke as Benny spoke. "What's up with you?"

I pressed my lips in a tight line. "What is up with me." I mumbled.

He sighed. "I don't know, and I don't like it." Benny stated, shuffling his feet.

I nodded slightly, fixing my gaze on the gray tiled floor. "Me neither."

I glanced back up at Benny, who narrowed his eyes at me. "This all started only, like, a week ago. What changed?"

I smirked slightly. "Maybe I've caught some deadly forgien disease."

He huffed, taping his cigarette. "I bet."

Silence fell between us as we stood their, Benny taking a drag of his cigarette now an then. Some kid passed by us in the hallway once, eyeing me in a way that made me figet. Benny noticed it too.

"This is really starting to piss me off." He almost growled as the student disappeared from sight.

I cocked my head. "What is?" I questioned.

He gestured around the area. "The way people are beginning to look at you." He wore an expression of disgust. "It's almost like they're actually on that kid's side."

I narrowed my eyes. "What kid?"

He thought for a minute. "The one with the sweaters."

I suddenly grew a lot more interested in the conversation. "Sweater Boy?"

He nodded. "Uh, yeah. That one."

I was curious to find out what he had in mind. "What about him?"

"Well, for one, he has zero respect for you in any way shape or form whatsoever. Secondly, his actions are gaining him support. Before you know it, you'll be battleing for your place at the top."

I thought for a moment, considering. "I guess we're gonna have to change that."

Benny cracked a smile at my answer. "There you go."

I could tell that he had an idea how. "What did you have in mind?"

He seemed impressed with himself. "First, gain his trust. Find out something embarassing or mortifying about him."

I raised my eyebrows. "And?"

"Then we spread whatever it is to everyone we know, and bam. He'll back off and never even think of messing with you, or with any of us, ever again."

I stared at him, my mouth falling open.

"I know, I'm a genious. You're welcome." He flicked his cigarette onto the ground, crushing it out beneath his shoe as he walked by me. I heard his footsteps as they slowly faded away, as I stayed in place for a short while. I turned around to stare in the direction of where he had gone, the shock fading. Of course Benny would be the one to come up with something that evil.

He and Gordon probably hated Sweater Boy even more than I did. But maybe Benny's proposition wasn't such a bad idea, it might actually work. Jo wouldn't like that very much, though. She didn't really have a problem with Sweater Boy, I think she found our little dispute quite amusing. Still, I didn't have to tell her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I haven't updated in awhile! Once again, school got the best of me. I think I'm starting to figure out where this story is going, so maybe I can write it faster now, but I'm not sure. I am also working on another story that i think is way better written than this one, and I'm excited to publish it once I have a few chapters completed :D I hope you enjoyed this chapter even though I still need to edit it. Comments and critizizm are greatly appreciated!


	7. The Conflict Of Confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap I'm so sorry I haven't updated! I had a writing competition and a dance/singing/piano recital and exams and a six page paper due and a whole bunch of other crap. When school let out like a month ago I had to get back into the story and that was harder than I anticipated. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this poorly edited chapter!

As Gordon's favorite part of the day was beating up our various classmates, my favorite part of the day was the part when the food came into the picture. In otherwords, lunch. Of course, the cafeteria's version of a meal was the equivalent to stuffing yourself with a pile of dog shit, but I've learned that people will eat anything if they're desperate enough.

I took a sip of the Mountain Dew placed infront of me, savoring the delightful fizz as it pricked at my tongue.  Silence had fallen over the table, which was unusual for the sexy badass motherfuckers we were (although our teachers may prefer the term "troublemakers" or "delinquents").

"Where do nerds usually hang out?"  I broke the silence. 

Jo looked up at me from across the circular wooden table, sandwich in hand. "Why do you care?"

I shrugged, not meeting the questioning look on her face.  It was extremely difficult to hide something from Jo as it was, let alone when she was staring you down.

"I'd try the library." I directed my attention to Gordon, who shoved a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth. "Nerds like books, right?"

"What, did a gang of point dexters confront you?" Jo seemed annoyed as she threw her sandwich onto her tray, a disgusted expression crossing her features. "Or sneeze in your general direction?"

Gordon huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Maybe he still has some pent up anger towards that sassy kid, I know I do. "

Jo's expression seemed torn between both realization and confusion as she realized who he was referring to. "Sweater Boy?"

"Yeah, that one." It was Gordon's turn to be annoyed as he turned to me. "Give him a beating for me, will you?" He suddenly looked up, a hopeful expression etched across his face. "Second thought, can I join you?"

"What's his real name, anyways?" Jo asked, still confused.

That question was immediatly answered by a black tray slamming onto the table, startling the three of us. I glanced up to find some short chick looking down on us with brown eyes so sharp they could cut you. 

"Novak." Her voice was thin as she pronounced the two syllabled word through her blood tainted lips.

"Castiel Novak."

Her dark chocolate curls bounced slightly as she sat between me and Jo, obviously uninvited. She picked up a plastic fork, looking intent on eating when she noticed the three of us staring at her, dumbfounded.

She rolled her eyes at us, letting out an exaggerated sigh as she threw the unused utensil back onto the tray. "What, do I need to spell it out for you?"

"And who might you be?" Jo asked, a harsh edge to her tone.

The mystery girl, however, seemed amused by Jo's irritation as she answered with a smirk.  
"The name's Meg."

Meg turned to face her. "And you must be Jo."

She said every word as a separate sentence, flashing Jo a smile that gave me goosebumps. I'd figured out one thing so far, and that was how creepy someone could be during a first impression. So instead of paying attention to her, I silently tried out the name on my tongue. Castiel. Pretty damn awesome name, actually.

I looked up as Benny returned from his cigarette break, eyeing Meg with a puzzled expression.

I pointed towards her. "That's Meg."

Benny stared at Meg for a moment. "Yeah, I've seen you 'round." He stated as he sat down besides me. "And why are you here, anyways?"

Meg leaned her arms on the table. "I overheard your friends here's," She gestured to all of us, "conversation, and I felt obligated to correct them."

Benny seemed slightly disinterested as he looked over at me.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "His name's Castiel."

"Who's name?"

"Sweater Boy's."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Oh really?" He glanced at Meg. "And you know him?"

"Yeah." She replied. "Actually," She said as she turned to scan the area behind her. I saw a smile form on the part of her face I could see from my angle.

"Here he is now." She muttered as she got out of her seat, walking towards the entrance of the cafeteria. We all just kind of awkwardly stared at eachother until she came back, dragging an irritated Sweater Bo- _Castiel_ , behind her as she approached the table.

He seemed to be protesting at her until he laid eyes on us, then his mouth clenched shut as he seemed to freeze in place. Meg took the opportunity to snake an arm around his as he stared at us, his glasses framing the slightly petrified look on his face.

"Where did all that courageous attitude go, I wonder?" Gordon mocked him.

"Aww, is wittle baby Castiel scared?" Benny added, laughing at him.

The more laughter and taunts thrown at him, the more he seemed to shrink away. He just seemed so small compared to the sass queen he was a couple days ago.

"Relax, Clarence." I raised an eyebrow at the nickname as I overheard Meg whisper into Castiel's ear. "What's gotten into you?"

He turned his head to her, keeping one eye on the group of people sitting in front of him. Her teasing expression faded as she listened to the soft words he spoke. No one would have noticed her grip on his arm tighten if they weren't looking closely. And suddenly Meg seemed just a little bit more intimidating, protective, even.

"Well," Meg glanced at us. "This has been nice, but we've gotta run. See you around?"

"Yeah." Jo's voice was light as she stared at her.

Meg raised her eyebrows before turning and walking out of the cafeteria, one red nailed hand pinned on Castiel's arm at all times.

"She left her food here." Benny stated.

Gordon shrugged, reaching over to claim the abandoned tray. "More for me."

"Well that was... unusual." Jo made a face at the other side of the cafeteria before looking back at me.

"Yeah." I shrugged at her in reply, glancing down at my half eaten turkey sandwich.

. . . . .

Dean looked himself over in the bathroom mirror, combing his hands through his hair, styling it to perfection. His pair of tan khakis went well with the green button down Jo gave him last Christmas. It really did bring out his eyes.

Like most popular kids who had a life, Dean was preparing himself to attend one of Ash's parties, one of the most badass hosts ever known to man.  He was the king of party throwers, never having too little alchohol or too many skanks.  Unlike most, his were actually worth going to. 

Once Dean felt satisfied with his hairstyle, he backed away from his reflection in order to view the rest of himself. He decided on rolling up the sleeves of the button down, why not show off those sexy arm muscles? Dean smiled before exiting the bathroom and heading downstairs.

"Bye Sammy!" He shouted as he headed out the front door. If there was a reply, Dean didn't hear it.

Jo was already waiting in for him in the Impala, her crossed feet resting on top of the dashboard. She looked up from playing with her blue nails as he opened the car door.

"Hey." He muttered as he climbed in, shutting the door.

"Greetings." She smiled slightly as she laid eyes on his shirt. "I told you it would look good."

"Yeah." He agreed, pulling out his car keys. "You do a pretty damn good job at this whole clothing thing."

Jo looked out the windshield, still smiling to herself. "I know."

Dean shoved the car key into the ignition before backing out of the long driveway, turning onto the lamp-lit street it lead to. He weaved his way throughout the rather large neighborhood, following a familiar route to the bigger road that separated one neighborhood from the other one across the street.

On both sides of the street, tree branches swayed in union, pushed and pulled by the wind. The road was still damp and dark clouds swirled in the sky from the storm that recently occurred. Raindrops were scattered all over the Impala, slowly evaporating as they drove.

"Dean?" Jo asked, staring out the window.

"Yeah?" He replied without taking his eyes off of the road before him.

"Has something been bothering you lately?" She wondered aloud.

He seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking. "No," He muttered, glancing down for a second. "Why?"

Jo sighed. "Because you've been acting strange, more distant."

"...I have?"

"Yeah." She finally turned to face Dean. "You don't talk as much as you used to either. I can't help but suspect that something's wrong."

Dean glanced at Jo to find that her expression was dead serious.

He sighed, giving up. "It's that obvious, huh?"

She nodded. "I know you as well as Sam does, Dean. Of course it's obvious to me."

Dean slowed to a stop as a green light flickered from yellow to red. He looked down, hands still in place on the steering wheel.

"Tell me." Jo leaned forward to see his face.

He sighed. "I want to tell you," He looked back up, checking the traffic ahead of him. "I just don't know how."

Jo let out an exasperated sigh, looking down.

"I'm sorry for not telling you," Dean pressed down on the accelerator as the light flickered to green again. "I've just been trying to find an easy way to say this."

"Let me guess," She cocked her head to one side, glancing back up. "There is no easy way to say it, is there?"

Dean shook his head for clarification. "Might as well get it over with." He turned right before continuing with a sigh. "I've been feeling very conflicted over something lately."

"Uh huh..."

"And... It kinda has to do with, um..."

"...Go on..." Jo stayed expressionless, patiently waiting for me to speak.

By the time he'd worked up the courage to spit it out, Jo's ringtone went off.

"Son of a-" She dug through her jacket pocket and located her noisy phone. She checked the number before setting it down on the dashboard, ignoring it. I glanced at the phone, then to her, then back to the phone again.

"You should answer that." I suggested.

"It's just one of the girls."

"Could be important."

"Stop stalling."

"I'm not stalling."

"Yes you are."

"Just answer the damn phone."

"Fine." She growled, glaring at me as she answered it.

"Hello?" She muttered, a hint of irritation in her voice.  
"Yes, we're almost there."  
"Yes, Ash, he's coming."  
"Yeah, okay, bye."

Jo hung up, shoving the phone back into her pocket.

Dean narrowed his eyes at her. "I though you said it was 'one of the girls'?"

She shrugged. "Ash in general is girly enough for me. Now, are you going to tell me?"

"Sorry." Dean smirked just as he pulled onto the front lawn of a large familiar house, next to many other vehicles. The music blaring from inside could be heard loud and clear, even the car vibrated. Jo glared at him as he cut the engine and climbed out of the Impala, and she soon followed him.

As they walked in the direction of the front door, they passed a couple making out by a tree, a few drunk guys hanging out, and another couple who were just a little bit farther along than just making out. Of course Dean started staring, and of course Jo dragged him away from his front row view.

"Oh come on!" Dean complained as Jo lead him to the front door.

"Shut up." She grabbed the golden handle, swinging the wooden door open.

They didn't hesitate to step inside of the crowded and uncomfortably warm house. The air smelled of alchohol and lit cigarettes. Most of the population gathered in the middle of the room where the music was at its loudest. Some were dancing, more were grinding on one another, holding their spiked drinks above their heads, an attempt to keep the contents from spilling out. Small groups of three or four lined the walls, less interested in the music and more in conversing with their so called friends.

They spotted a few people from other high schools as they strolled in, all of which they knew too well. A mix of friend and foe that they chose to ignore for the moment.

"Hey, Winchester! Harvelle!" They turned to see Ash approaching them, a brown beer bottle in hand.

"Ash!" Dean replied, hugging him. "It's good to see you, man."

Ash grinned at him, pulling back. "Ditto."

"Hey Ash." Jo went in for a hug as well.

"Well hello to you too." Ash pulled back, smiling. "Want some drinks?" He asked as he guided them through the maze of bodies.

They arrived shortly at a long table full of junk food, beer bottles, and punch that was only 10% punch.

"Take your pick." Ash gestured towards the table in front of him.

"It's been awhile since you last hosted a party." Dean commented, handing a red solo cup to Jo before taking one for himself.

"I know. The folks finally went out of town for work, thank baby Jesus."

"Yeah." Jo poured the not-so-much-punch-as-alchohol into her cup before handing Dean the ladel.

Dean poured himself a cup as well, taking a sip. He made a face at how strong it was, holy crap. His second attempt to down the liquid was going much more smoothley, but then he caught sight of someone that made him chock trying to keep from hacking it back up.

"Dean?" Jo placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm fine." He reassured her, and she smiled and turned back around to continue with an ongoing conversation.

Meanwhile, Dean took in the sight before him, well actually it was across the room, but same difference. Talking to some red head was Castiel, red solo cup in hand, laughing. No dorky glasses, no awkward oversized sweaters. Just a deep blue button down and black- were those skinny jeans? Oh, those were definitely skinny jeans. Well shit. To say the least, he was completely gorgeous. And Dean was practically drooling.

"Dean." Jo waved a ring infested hand infront of his face in order to gain his attention. "Benny and Gordon are here."

At that, Dean downed the whole cup in his hand, leaving Jo stunned. "I think I need another drink."

. . . . .

"Come on, Cassie." Charlie wined as she bounced up and down repeatedly on Castiel's bed.

"You know I hate parties, Charlie." He replied, rearrainging his stack of CD's.

"Please, for me?" Charlie pleaded, giving him her best puppy eyes.

He smirked, amused. "Nice try, but no."

"Ugh, why not?"

He hesitated, searching for a certain album. "Because of reasons."

"That's not an answer."

"You know, if you really wanted to style me up, you could just ask."

Charlie slumped her shoulders. "But then I wouldn't be able to watch everyone drool over you."

"Well at least you won't have to find that your prediction would've been incorrect." He grinned as he found the album he was looking for.

"You need to start using smaller words. You make everyone else look like an idiot." Charlie whined as she flipped through his sketch book.

"My apologies."

Charlie sighed, who suddenly perked up as a convincing idea struck her. "Tell you what," she put the book aside, standing up. "If you come with me, I'll do your history homework for a whole week."

Castiel's intrest increased at the offer. "Tempting, but no thanks."

"Two weeks."Charlie gave it another shot, sweetening the deal.

Castiel met her hopeful gaze, finding the reassuring sincereity he needed there. He considered the proposal for a minute, then waited awhile longer to irritate the ginger infront of him. Charlie gave him a grateful smile before hugging him after the word left his mouth.

"Deal."

. . . . .

~Much MUCH Later In the Evening~

Those who were still mostly sober had by now filed outside to the large backyard to escape the drunken mass of people who had taken over the inside, thankful for the fresh air. Some retreated to the nearby woods to smoke. A few couples had hooked up and occupied most of the spare rooms with any sort of furniture within them. And then someone suggested that they play Spin the Bottle. That someone happened to be Ash.

"I know ya wanna play, Winchester." Ash slung a loose arm over Dean's shoulders, urging him to get in on the game.

Dean giggled, swaying slightly. "Why the hell not?"

He grinned. "Awesome!" 

Ash turned to Jo. "Howa 'bout you, Jo?"

Jo smiled. "Nah, I'm good."

They then procceded over to where a few people already sat in a mostly complete circle, one drained beer bottle in the center. They sat down, taking up the remaining space.

"Hiya Dean." A familiar chilling voice sounded form the opposite side of the circle.

He looked up to find Meg, a smirk accompanying her devilish stare.

"Heyyy Meg." He smiled at her, his breath heavy with the smell of alcohol.

He almost didn't notice the blue eyed boy that sat next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap I'm so sorry I haven't updated! I had a writing competition and a dance/singing/piano recital and exams and a six page paper due and a whole bunch of other crap. When school let out like a month ago I had to get back into the story and that was harder than I anticipated. Anyways I'm so sorry and I hope you enjoyed this poorly edited chapter!


	8. The Bitter Taste Of Knowledge

When Dean laid eyes on the blue eyed boy across from him, he kind of stopped and stared. He just looked so different than he usually did. And not to mention the fact that he was at a party. Loser-types didn't go to parties, that was just an unspoken law. But then again, you wouldn't think of him as one at first glance either. Even Dean wouldn't have recognized him if it weren't for those undescribable eyes of his. In fact, it seemed as if no one there even knew who he was. 

Castiel was oblivious to Dean's presence, or anyone's, really. He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to care. It was surprising that he even could think up to this point, considering he'd had about as much to drink as the rest of them. But he didn't go unaware of Dean for long.

"Well?" The impatient voice belonged to a well known troublemaker, otherwise known as Crowley. "Are we gonna start this bloody game or not?"

"I'm on it." Lilith claimed from next to Dean.

She grabbed the amber bottle with red coated nails, spinning it on the wooden floor it laid on. Gradually it lost speed, slowing to a stop at a guy named Azazel. Some cheered as they kissed, some laughed and some clapped. This was repeated for a few rounds until Dean noticed a girl he new quite well, Lisa, spin the bottle. Dean knew Lisa liked him, like a lot. And guess who the bottle landed on?

"Pucker up, Dean!" Ash nudged him in Lisa's direction.

She gladly cupped his face in her hands and gave little warning before pressing her lips onto his. It was a simple kiss, short and sweet, and Lisa was wearing cherry flavored lip gloss. She pulled back, biting her lip in order to hold back a smile. Dean flashed his teeth in a grin, using that old Winchester charm as he found his way next to Ash once more. Worked every time.

Ash clapped a hand on Dean's shoulder, leaning in close. "I think she's got the hots for you, man." He commented, his words breathy and slurred.

"I'd say so." Dean giggled, taking a drink from his cup before grabbing the bottle and spinning it for himself. It landed on a brunette named Bela, a girl Dean did not take favor to, they kissed, the game went on for a bit longer.

Soon Meg got a hold of the bottle, and spun it with as much force as she could muster up. Everyone watched with anticipation as the bottle landed on Castiel for the first time since the start of the game. He seemed a little uneasy about that fact as Meg grabbed the front of his button down and fiercely crashed her lips into his. He kissed back after a moment's hesatation before leaning away from her, but she just kept leaning towards him. She was practically on top of him when she finally pulled back, breathless.

"Sorry, got a little carried away." Meg smirked.

An unpleasant feeling hit Dean as she licked her lips and sat upright once again, a hint of lust in her dark brown eyes as she looked at Castiel, almost possesively, as he hauled himself back up as well. He fixed his button down, flashing Meg a small but unsure smile as he grabbed hold of the base of the brown bottle. With one flick of his wrist, the bottle went spinning, and everyone watched it go round, and round, and round, until it began to slow down. Passing Crowley, Lisa, Lilith, but it never made it to Ash.

Dean stared at the nozzle infront of him for a second, taking in what would come next. He lifted his radiant green eyes up to meet the deep blue ones from across the circle. And suddenly, something that never happened to Dean Winchester, happened. His heartbeat spead up, a deafening sound that throbbed throughout his skull, and a knot formed in his stomach. Dean Winchester was officially nervous.

The same feeling hit Castiel as their eyes met, distracting him from his surroundings. And as if on que, they leaned in simultaneously, slowly but surely. The air seemed to grow thinner as they grew closer, their lips brushing one another, so close that they could smell the alcohol on each others breath. Finally, Dean met Castiel in a single tight-lipped kiss, that seemed to last for an eternity before they pulled back once again. And if Meg had been as intoxicated as the rest of them, she may not have noticed the spark between the two that sent a bolt of jealousy down her spine.

. . . . .

A/N Ohh you're going to hate me for what I did. "You know what, I do feel bad about it, but I'm not going to say I'm sorry." -MC >:)

CAS' POV

I opened my eyes to something attempting to burn my eyes out, well, either that or my eyes were extremely sensitive because WOW that was bright. It was like staring directly into the sun itself, and let me tell you, it was not a pleasant feeling.

"Morning, Clarence." I groaned at the voice that pounded throughout my head.

I rubbed a hand over my face, instinctively reaching for my glasses when I remembered Charlie had made me wear contacts. "What are you doing here?"

Meg chuckled. "This is my house, Clarence."

My eyes shot open, which didn't help my headache. I squinted in order to make out Meg, leaning up against the door across the room in maroon pajamas. It was then I realized that I laid in a bed that wasn't mine, in a bedroom that wasn't mine. I glanced down, noticing that I was also wearing clothes that weren't mine.

Meg approached me, and I was thankful that she was barefoot, I don't think I could handle the harsh thump of her heels at the moment. She handed me a couple of pills and a glass of water.

"Thanks." I mumbled, throwing my head back as I swallowed the pain killers.

Meg sat down beside me, bringing her legs up in a criss-cross position as she looked at me. "So, " She seemed slightly different, nervous perhaps. "Do you, um, remember last night?"

I thought back to the previous day, finding some memories there. "Kind of... Well we went to the party, and I got so hammered that I don't remember anything past you dragging me to sit in a circle for some game." It occurred to me then that I had no clue what game we had sat down to play in the first place. "In fact," I continued. "I don't even remember what it was we were playing."

Something like relief and hope crossed her features at my explanation. "So you don't remember anything else? Anything at all?"

I gave here a confused look. " No- and what's with the interrogation?"

"Oh, nothing." Meg said with fake reassurance.

"Is there anything I should know about?" I wondered aloud.

"Nope." Meg stood up, cutting off the conversation. "I'll go make us some breakfast."

I stared at her as she exited the room. Confused thoughts tried to pester me, but I pushed them away as soon as the throbbing in my head started up again. I groaned as I flipped the covers off of me, pulling myself into a standing position. I held onto the nightstand beside me for support when a shot of nausea hit me like a ton of bricks. I breathed in and out, struggling to recover as I began following the path that Meg took into the kitchen.

"Finally decided to join me, did ya Clarence?" She smiled down at the eggs she was making as I leaned up against the wall.

I grunted in reply, proceeding to walk over to the coffee maker on the counter. I grabbed a mug from the cupboard above me and poured myself some coffee. I grabbed some creamer from the refrigerator, adding some to my cup.

"How are you feeling?" Meg asked, looking up from the pan in front of her as I returned the creamer to the fridge.

"Shitty." I sighed, grabbing the box of sugar beside the coffee maker.

She laughed at my answer. "Well, it could be worse."

I scooped a spoonful of the brown sugar into my coffee. "How?"

Meg turned off the burner, bringing the pan over to the two plates laid out on the table. She transferred the scrambled eggs onto them before placing the pan in the sink.

"Man, it's been awhile since you've been that drunk." Meg commented just as two pieces of wheat toast popped out of the toaster beside her.

"Tell me about it." I grabbed my coffee, sitting down just as Meg sat down, bringing the toast with her.

Meg immediately dug in, while I took the slower approach. I shoved my eggs onto the toast, savoring the taste as I took a bite.

"You're so weird." Meg chuckled.

"Hey, it's called being creative." I brought my coffee mug to my lips, staring back at her as I did so.

"Uh huh." She smiled at me.

A comfortable silence filled the air surrounding us as we finished off our breakfast, Meg checking her phone and me having a mental dispute on the purpose of the existence of chipmunks. I mean, they're adorable as fuck, but do they do anything besides feed an overweight house cat for a few hours?

"I'm going to go get changed." I abruptly stood up from the table, grabbing my plate and setting it in the sink.

"Your clothes are on my dresser!" Meg called to me as I made my way into the bedroom.

I found my clothes from last night on top of the dresser, as Meg had previously pointed out. I grabbed them, strolling into the bathroom next door to change.

After I had changed, I leaned on the sink in front of me. As I stared at my reflection in the mirror, I silently wondered why I had stayed at Meg's house instead of Charlie's. I rarely stayed over at Meg's apartment. Maybe Charlie had taken home a girl? I smirked to myself. Knowing Charlie, I was correct.

I took one look at my bed head, and figured it wasn't even worth the struggle. My hair just had a mind of its own I suppose.

I threw the old clothes into the hamper as I exited the bathroom, finding Meg on the couch in the living room, eyes glued to the lit up screen.

"I'm gonna head out." I commented, opening the front door.

"Did you need a ride?" She answered, not once taking her eyes off of the tv.

"Nah, I can walk."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks for everything!" I called, shutting the door behind me.

"Bye!" I heard Meg call from the other side of the door before continuing down the stairs of the apartment complex.

. . . . .

 

I woke up to a weight on my chest and the unforgiving glare of the sun, which threatened to blind me if I even glimpse in the direction of the window. I groaned, squinting down at the girl trapping my shirtless form beneath her. The next-to-black brown strands draped across my chest indicated that I had indeed slept with the one and only Lisa Braeden.

"Shit." I mumbled, not only because of that, but my head was killing me, a familiar pain pounding throughout my skull.

I repeated my usual 'The Morning After' routine, used countless times before. I was an expert at stealth in these situations, carefully rolling myself out from under the sleeping Lisa on top of me. That part went exceptionally well, much smoother than I had expected. I quickley spotted my clothes from last night, picking them up from various places across the sunlight dappled floor, throwing them on as I went. 

Once I had collected my belongings, fully dressed once again, I stood in the middle of the room, glancing down at Lisa. This was the part where I'd have to decide whether to leave a note or not. You'd think with a beauty like her I'd be interested, but I just wasn't feeling it. Part of me said she just wasn't my type, but another part of me was screaming that she was the exact description of 'my type'. 

What was up with me? 

I soon decided that it wasn't the time nor place to have a mental debate/crisis about this. I found her phone within a few seconds, typing in a quick text, saving myself as a contact. Maybe all I needed was a little fun in order to gain my normal self back.

. . . . . 

I soon found Jo, who had fallen asleep face down on the back seat of the Impala. Of course I snapped a picture of the drooling blond before backing my Baby onto the street and heading in the direction of our neighborhood. 

Jo was soon shocked awake when I may or may not have purposely slammed on the brakes at the last possible second. 

"THE FUCK?!?!" Jo exclaimed as she clung to the seat for dear life.

"'Morning." I grinned at her through the rear view mirror to find her glaring at me with that I'm-stabbing-you-in-my-mind look. 

"Oh fuck you." She groaned, pulling herself up in a sitting position, holding her head.

"How's the hangover?" I asked, directing my attention back to the road as the light turned green.

"Peachy." Jo exclaimed, sarcasm clearly lacing her tone.

"There's some aspirin in the glove compartment." I commented as she climbed into the passenger seat, bumping my elbow in the process.

"I know." She said as she opened the compartment, digging around for the white bottle of pain killers.

"Get me a couple, will ya?" I asked as she found the bottle.

"You too, huh?" Jo handed me the pills, swallowing hers at the same time as me.

"Yeah." I grunted, despising the feel of dry pills traveling down my throat.

"Yeah, you were pretty hammered last night." She commented, placing the aspirin back in its rightful place, shutting the glove compartment with a click.

"I don't remember anything, really." I noticed, thinking back to last night.

"Same here." Jo agreed. "I do remember kicking some guy in the balls for groping me."

I laughed at that. 

"So." She looked over at me expectantly.

"So?" I asked, confusion settling on my features.

"So, who was the lucky girl last night?" She waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Or guy?"

I sighed, for once hoping to avoid that question. "You know that chick Lisa?"

Jo made an 'o' shape with her mouth in realization. "Doesn't she have, like, a major crush on you or something?"

"Afraid so." I frowned slightly.

The car suddenly fell into an uncomfortable silence, Jo's eyes boring into me. 

"What?" I asked after a minute of the intense staring on her part.

"What do you mean 'what'?" 

"I seriously mean 'what'." I glanced between her and the road ahead of me.

"Since when has a hot girl falling head over heels for you become a bad thing?" She questioned me, shocked.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. So I just spoke the only words that filled in the blank space in my mind. "I... I don't know."

Silence fell once again within the Impala as we tried to find the reason behind my recent unusual behavior. We reached the familiar streets of our neighborhood before long, thankfully. I quickly pulled Baby into our driveway, cutting off her engine before exiting the car. Jo was soon free of the compacted space as well, shutting the door as I headed in the direction of my house.

As soon as I entered, I was greeted by an overly excited Jess. it was liked she lived here or something, you never saw Sam without her anymore.

"Hi Dean!" She squealed at an unpleasantly high pitch. 

I clutched my head, the dull throbbing now present once again.

"Hangover, Jess." I informed her.

"Oh, sorry." She whispered from then on. 

"So, who'd you do the nasty with this time?" Sam entered the room with a knowing expression on his face.

"Uh, Lisa." I shut my eyes as I remembered something. "Oh and Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"I found out the name of that guy you were asking about."

She tilted her head in confusion. 

"You know, the one at the dock?"

"Oh right." A look of realization crossed her features. "Well? What's his name then?"

I sighed as I spoke the unique name. "Castiel Novak." 

By the way Jess' eyes widened, I could tell this was not a good thing. 

"Jess?" Sam walked over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders, an attempt to comfort her. "What's wrong?"

She swallowed, glancing down at her feet as she spoke the words that made me sick to my stomach. 

"I met him at the funeral." Tears pricked at her eyes, threatening to fall at any second.

"What- Who's funeral?" I gulped, nervous of the answer, and I was right to be.

She looked back up, tear streaks now staining her cheeks. 

"She was my best friend, despite the age difference." Jess chocked out a sob that just about broke my heart. 

"It- it wasn't even that long ago." Sam and I exchanged concerned yet pained glances before she continued. 

"Anna..." It was if as though it physically hurt her to say the name. 

"Anna was Castiel's sister."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry it took so long to update. I just wanted to let you know that I probably won't be updating as often due to school starting back up and my taking all honors courses... I'm sorry guys, I'll try to keep updating as often as I can, but I can't promise that I'll have a lot of time to write this story. I love you all!


	9. Right Number, Wrong Reasons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post this chapter until I finished chapter ten, but I felt bad. Oh and I MET MISHA FREAKING COLLINS AHH. I will probably go back on hiatus due to school and stuff, but we'll see. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

"Anna was Castiel's sister."

The words pounded throughout my skull as I attempted to take them in.

_Anna was his sister._

_His sister._

Shock pulsed thoughout my body, seeming to paralyze me in that exact moment.

_He lost his sister._

_He lost his Sammy._

Right in the middle of this moment of realization, I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I blinked once, twice before I even processed that someone had texted me. I studied the polished wooden floor beneath my feet, before deciding to head up to my room.

"Dean?" I heard Sam call to me as I made my way down the hall across the room.

He probably would've ran after me if it weren't for the sobbing Jess that he held close to him.

I made my way up the spiral stairs at the end of the hall, climbing them at a zombie like pace; each step was a struggle. I automatically stopped at the third floor before entering my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I pulled out my phone to see if the text I had received was urgent or not.

_Haha, nice. I'll get on that right away._

The text from Benny read, leaving me wondering just what he was replying to. I unlocked my phone, my eyes widening at the obviously drunken string of texts I had sent last night.

_Yo Benmyster killr party huh?_

_Where'd ya go?_

_Nevrmind I found ya_

_Heyyyyyy Benmy. Castiel iz a fagg js._

_I'm gettin laid tonight baby!!!!!_

My mouth fell open at the words I had previously typed, guilt immediately tearing through me at what I had revealed. I was bisexual and everyone knew it, but having no attraction to girls whatsoever was a big deal at our high school apparently. Lesbians were acceptable, but only because that was considered to be extremely hot. It was all screwed up and wrong, but that's just how it is.

_You know what, let's just drop it. The kids got enough to deal with, losing his sister and all._

I typed at a rapid fire pace, trying my best to convince Benny to call it off and attempting to seem unaffected at the same time. I threw my phone onto my bed, mentally trying to calm myself down, I was only worked up over this because it concerned Jess anyways. It's not like I gave two shits about Castiel, right?

Wrong

. . . . . .

CAS' POV

I walked into school this morning with an unfamiliar happiness swirling within me, I didn't even mind waking up this morning, which was kind of scary, but oh well. I think I deserve a day of unquestioned happiness.

As I strolled joyfully down the hall, I noticed a group of students snickering in my general direction, which caught my attention. They stared at me as I passed them, one of them making a jester that could only be one thing. Miming an action with his hand hovering in front of his mouth in an 'o' shape, moving his tongue inside his cheek- yeah, you can guess why a pang of shock and fear invaded my body.

In an attempt to stay calm, I focused on getting to my locker, pushing past the herd of students that created a barrier in the hallway. I fought through them, finally reaching my locker, slightly calmed down. Maybe guys just did that to mess around with other guys, I mean, they couldn't know. They couldn't have possibly figured it out. The last person I'd been with was Balthazar.

I dropped my head at the thought of him, deciding that now was not the time to wallow in my memories and self pity. I took in a deep breath and opened my locker. My jaw dropped at what I found.

Post-it notes and torn off pieces of crumpled paper littered the interior, barely legible scribbles written across them. I dropped my bag at the sight, not even hearing it hit the ground as I stared in horror at the notes.

"Kill yourself, Faggot!"

"Fag."

"Go die in a hole you queer!"

"Freak!"

"Fuck you, cocksucker!"

The rapid thud of my fragile heartbeat drowned out my surroundings as I struggled to remain standing. My breathing quickened, on the verge of hyperventilating, and I felt sick to my stomach.

They know.

My mind taunted me with terrifying memories as a well known surge of fear shot through my veins, a venom so affective and cruel. I staggered backwards, recoiling as if I'd been slapped in the face. With what little sanity I had left at that moment, I dragged myself over to hide behind my locker, as I have done many times before during times like these. Only non could compare to this one's severity.

I lowered myself carefully to the ground, aware that I could very well pass out at this point, for I had trained myself to do so when I still lived with my parents; a defense mechanism. It was the only way I could get them to stop. Silent tears ran down my flushed cheeks as I curled into a fetal position against the corner, I could almost hear the crack of a belt on skin again.

I needed to get out of here, I knew that much. With shaking hands, I found my phone embedded in my back pocket, pulling it out. I struggled to find Gabe's name as I scrolled through my contacts, having already turned on the bright screen. Tears blurred my vision as I searched, finally finding him. But before I could press the call button, the cold black silence had engulfed me.

. . . . .

DEAN'S POV

When Castiel never showed up for English, I'll admit I began to worry a bit. He could have easily gotten sick or went on vacation, no harm done. But when Benny was nowhere to be found, I flat out panicked (on the inside of course).

I for one did not underestimate Benny's abilities to follow through with what he had started. I didn't know just how far he would go, either. That thought alone drove me to investigate the current situation once we were let out for our lunch period.

"Dean?" Jo called to me after she realized I was walking in the other direction.

I turned around to face her. "Yeah?"

"The cafeteria is this way, dumbass." She stated matter-of-factly.

"I know." I replied simply, itching to escape the conversation.

"Then where are you going?" She asked as I turned away, continuing down the opposite hallway.

"I'll be back!" I shouted behind my shoulder before turning the corner and disappearing from sight.

Once I was out of view, I quickened my pace, trying my hardest not to make any assumptions just yet. No need to panic for no reason, right?

I reached Castiel's locker in no time, I mean I only remembered it because it was #124, one digit away from the famous #123, and the owner of that one was smoking hot. I also remembered it because, for some unknown reason, the owner of locker #124 was the only person I'd ever met that I actually felt obligated to remember; it felt right to remember.

I saw that his locker was wide open as I approached it, taking a cautious peek inside out of curiosity. What I witnessed caused my jaw to drop in pure horror. Harsh words written by anonymous authors coated the whole interior. I read each cruel note at least five times each before a seething anger pulsed throughout me. I took one step towards the locker only to kick something on the ground beneath it. I glanced at the floor to find a familiar black leather bag, the shining sliver buckles unforgettable.

I peered behind the locker, half expecting a curled up ball of blue eyes and sex hair, but to my dismay I found nothing. That's when I became fearful.

He never left without his bag.

That's when I spotted a lone cell phone abandoned on the tiled floor. Hesitantly, I plucked it from the ground, turning on the bright little screen to a single text, my eyes widening. I recognized that number from anywhere.

_Run while you still can, faggot._

. . . . .

SAM'S POV

To say the very least, I was terrified of Benny. Correction; I was scared shitless by him. Same with Gordon and a few other of Dean's "friends", but non of them were the one that had threatened me today.

I wonder why he wanted Dean's phone so badly, I mean I never would've done it, but then he threatened to do things to Jess and that was the breaking point. I feel so guilty for stealing Dean's phone from his pocket; he never even noticed over his passionate sing-along to AC/DC on our way to school. I should've told Dean. But I had to keep Jess safe. Damn my emotional connection to other human beings.

I hope it wasn't anything serious, what Benny was doing. I mean, it could've just been a stupid bet and he needed the cigarette money, or something like that. That sounds like him, right? I think so.

I haven't spoken a word of our previous conversation to anyone, not even Jess. I don't want her to worry. But then again, maybe she should know, she has a right to after all. I don't know what to do. I'm scared; I just want to tell them and keep them safe at the same time. Why can't I? Oh yeah, because someone named Benny sucks ass and likes making peoples lives a living hell. Dean never really hurt anyone unless they hurt me first, or threatened to. All this crap started with Benny. I hated him from the moment I looked at him. He turned my brother into something he's not; a bully. I just wish Dean could see that.

. . . . .

DEAN'S POV

The smooth shell of the phone almost slipped through my fingers once I had laid eyes on the text, shock pulsing throughout me.

_That's my number._

At any other time, I probably would've found it amusing and/or questionable that I was one of his contacts, but right now it scared the crap out of me. It couldn't have been me who sent it. Could it have?

I immediately patted my pocket, the one I always kept my phone in to find that my phone was in fact not there. My eyes widened as I checked all of my pockets, finding my car keys, wallet and a packet of gum, but no phone.

_Someone stole it?_

Panic shot through me at the realization that someone had taken my phone.

_How?_

A genuine growl rumbled in the back of my throat as I slammed the locker in front of me shut, turning and heading towards the main hallway immediately afterwards.

_Who the fuck dared to steal my phone?_

_I'll kill 'em._

_Fucking asshole._

These thoughts ran through my mind as I reached my locker, forcefully ripping it open. I rummaged through the scattered papers and next to never used textbooks, but no phone was uncovered within junk filled metal cabinet. As I had before, I slammed my locker shut, now able to verify that some dick had indeed robbed me of my phone. Not only that, but they were able to get into it, so they either hacked into it or used the password.

"FUCK!"

I yelled, turning in yet another direction with another destination in mind.

I don't know why my first instinct was to walk out into the courtyard, but that wasn't exactly my main priority at the moment. I was too focused on making it to that damn willow tree that I've began to grow fond of. I pushed the dangling branches aside when I had reached it, slowing down once I was inside the protective dome it created.

What I didn't expect was the sobbing ball of Castiel that leaned up against the base of the tree.

I stood frozen in my place, feeling somewhat awkward. "Castiel?"

His head instantly snapped up so I could see his tear stained cheeks and fearful blue eyes. A pang of guilt shot through me; the text was sent from my phone after all.

"You okay?"

The look of sorrow and fear he once wore transformed into anger.

"Don't play with your food Winchester. It's not very classy." He growled, pure hatred blazing within those deep irises.

I flinched at his harsh tone. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Oh please." He snorted. "You've done it before, you'll do it again."

I opened my mouth to protest, only to realize something.

"You're right." I whispered, glancing at the grass beneath my feet.

"I beg your pardon?" I looked up to find a look of confusion painted across his face.

"You're right, I have hurt you." I admitted more to myself than to him. "But I'm not going to anymore."

Pure shock engulfed the pair of red rimmed eyes before me. "What?"

"I said I'm not going to hurt you anymore- I regret all the times I have."

Castiel's jaw dropped, this didn't make any sense. "Where is this coming from?"

"I didn't send that text." I rapidly replied, the urge to let him know taking over. "In fact I don't have my phone at all."

"Then..."

"Someone stole it." I finished for him, hoping that he would believe me.

"Are you really that ignorant enough not to have a pass code for it?" He stared at me.

"That's the thing. I do." I stared back.

"Then it's obviously someone you know." He looked away. "And now everyone knows. They all know."

The guilt that surged through me was like a punch in the stomach. I felt absolutely terrible. Not knowing what else to do, I made my way over to where he was sitting and sat down next to him, mimicking his position by bringing my knees up to my chest.

The silence that hung between us was deafening.

"I saw your locker." I murmured.

That seemed to get Castiel's attention, as he lifted his head up and glanced in my direction. I opened my mouth to continue, but I didn't know what to say.

"It was you wasn't it?" He whispered, his voice small. "You're one of the only people that knew."

I sighed as the guilt just kept piling on and on. "I'm sorry." I bite my lip as the uncommon words left my mouth. "Normally I would blame it on my being drunk, but that's a lame excuse."

I played with my fingers to distract myself from his crushed form, tears pricking at his eyes once again. However, I did not expect him to say what he did next.

"You know, I was really hoping that it wasn't you who sent that text. I don't know why, but I was. Your "drunken self," however, started this whole mess, unintentionally I hope." He took in another breath, letting out a sad laugh. "I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about that."

"Do you want to hit me or something?" I asked in a somewhat joking manner. "That's usually what people want to do after I'd "broken their heart " by not texting them back the morning after."

"I can't say I'm surprised." He commented. "But I'm not going to hit you, Dean. Not too into the whole violence thing, remember?"

"Right." I sighed, leaning my head back against the rough bark, closing my eyes.

Silence drifted between us once again, a comfortable absence of noise. Gradually, my breaths grew deeper, slower, inching my body towards unconsciousness. That was, however, until he spoke.

"I'm not afraid of people knowing just because I was bullied for it at school, you know." He admitted, sucking in a shallow breath. "I was abused as well."

My eyes shot open as his voice cracked on the last word.

_He was abused?_

"Not just verbally, I might add." He continued, a tear sliding down his cheek. "Every single day when I came home- you'll notice that the people close to me avoid wearing belts."

I glanced down at my own belt, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

"Don't worry about it, it's fine." He commented, biting his lip.

I studied the blades of grass for a moment, contemplating something. Suddenly, I began to unbuckle my belt, the clinking of metal gaining Castiel's attention. He could only stare in shock as I unthread the leather strip from the belt loops on my jeans and threw it far out into the stretch of green to my right, far away from him. I flashed him a small smile.

"I guess this means we're friends now."

"...Yeah." He breathed, still staring wide-eyed at me.

I looked back at him. "What?"

He shook his head slightly. "Sorry, it's just-" He glanced back at me. "You're not who I thought you were."

"Who did you think I was?" I asked, curious.

He laughed a little to himself. "I actually thought you were a soulless asshole- I hated you with a burning passion." He paused for a moment. "But no, there is defiantly a soul inside that rockin' body of yours. You're really just like everyone else; human."

I stared at him for awhile longer before smirking. "That "rockin' body" of mine, huh?"

His cheeks flushed scarlet. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Yeah you kinda did." I answered, earning a cringe from him.

"Yeah, sorry about that. But to be fair, you are _extremely_ attractive so that might slip out every once and awhile." He informed me.

I smirked. "I think I can live with that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post this chapter until I finished chapter ten, but I felt bad. Oh and I MET MISHA FREAKING COLLINS AHH. I will probably go back on hiatus due to school and stuff, but we'll see. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	10. The Beginning of the Aftermath

As I walked home that eventful day, I wore a smile that just about split my face in two. Dean had sat next to me in Latin- I mean, its not like we really talked to each other, but damn was it a start. Plus he has tons of other friends, so that's understandable. Either way, our newfound friendship was the best thing that had happened to me in weeks.

The forest seemed to have matched my unusual change of a good mood, with warm rays of the big burning fire ball in the sky raining down on the leaf littered ground in the most beautiful way imaginable. The crisp autumn leaves pleasantly accompanied the golden streaks, the contrast of the surrounding trees complimenting the view nicely. I don't know, maybe it has always looked this way, maybe I just never invested enough time or interest to truly appreciate my surroundings.

The beat of my frail heart thumped at a steady rhythm, one that sent a feeling of calm throughout my punching bag of a body. For once in a very long time, a sense of hope fluttered within my chest. For once in what seemed to be a lifetime, I thought that everything was going to be okay. Whether the feeling was false or not, the radiant, uplifting chant sounded throughout my dark depressing mind.

_I'm going to be okay._

. . . . .

I sat in the leather drivers seat of the Impala, wondering just how the hell I had managed to tone down the asshole meter previously that day when Sam finally emerged from the hellhole that is our high school. He walked with his head down, visibly scuffing his shoes on the dark asphalt. I squinted my eyes at him as he gradually approached the car; something was wrong.

Ignoring my instincts, I stayed seated inside the vehicle and waited for him to make his way to the car. With a noticable sigh, he tugged open the door and slid into the passenger seat.

"Hey Sammy." I spoke gently, as if he would fall apart at any moment. He grunted in reply.

I bit the inside of my cheek. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

He just stared at the dashboard for a second before slipping one hand into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a black object out, eyes never leaving the direction in which he stared as he held up to me an open palm. Laying on the flat surface of his hand was my missing phone. I sucked in a shocked breath, eyes widening; this wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. It just couldn't.

"I'm sorry." Sam chocked out a broken sob, not once looking up at me.

My jaw dropped at the confirmation I hoped would never come. I slowly retrieved the cell phone from him, holding it in my hands, a sense of betrayal crawling throughout me as he lowered his hand to his lap. I didn't know what else to say.

"Why?"

Sam sucked in a shaky breath, letting the held back tears fall.

"I'm so sorry Dean," He paused. "I couldn't let him hurt her-" He cut himself off, slapping his hand over his mouth as my head shot up.

"What?" I stared at him; the look of guilt and fear concerning me.

I didn't even have time to be angry at him for doing what he did, I was too busy worrying about what had been done to him. But he just shook his head at me, and I knew from that that he had taken a vow to keep his mouth shut.

"Was it Jess?" I whispered, his nod of confirmation unnessisary, for I knew it couldn't have been anyone else.

"Who did this to you?" I asked him, a pleading look in my eyes."Please, tell me."

To my dismay, he vigorously shook his head. It was obvious that he wasn't going to tell me anything if we kept going in this direction. But being the stubborn piece of crap that I was, I refused to back down.

"Sammy, look at me." I demanded, and to my surprise, he peered up at me through his bangs.

"You have to tell me who threatened you and Jess." He opened his mouth to cut me off, but I continued before he was able to. "Whoever it was, they have to be stopped. Think about it, they could do the same thing to someone else, and I can't let that happen. I don't want anyone innocent getting hurt."

For a moment, I actually believed that he was going to give in. But suddenly a raging fire ignited within those frightened eyes, an anger that caused his whole figure to tense up. Rarely had I seen that look of pure rage from him, filled with all the disgust and hatred imaginable.

"You don't want anyone innocent getting hurt?" He spit out in a harsh whisper, one of those light tones that scared the hell out of anyone listening.

"You? The guy that gets his kicks out of beating the shit out of innocent students every damn fucking day?"

I flinched at the uncommon language that he threw at me. "Sammy, I-"

"You what? What exactly are you just dying to say that could make the ends justify the means, Dean?" He growled.

That was it. I was stunned. Dean Winchester had been rendered speechless by his own brother. I attempted to say something, but the words couldn't find their way to my mouth, which hung wide open.

"You're a bully, Dean! Benny changed you for the worse! This all started when you met that son of a bitch-" His shoulders slumped in defeat, anger once again replaced by sadness.

"It all started when you met him." I swallowed after a moment, refusing the urge to break down right then and there.

Usually when people got mad at me I wouldn't care, but this was Sam and he was absolutely right. And I'm sure he was well aware of the effect he was having on me; he knew me better than anyone. So when I saw him open his mouth to say something else, guilt written across his face, I started the Impala, the purr of the engine roaring to life cutting him off.I quickly pulled out of the parking space before maneuvering my way through the packed parking lot, eventually falling into a line moving at a snails-pace. I prayed that he wouldn't try to speak to me in any way whatsoever since I could barely keep it together during the silence.

I noticed that I was still clutching my cell phone in my right hand, a white-knuckled grip that gave away my whole state of mind. I glared at it for a second before slipping it back into its rightful place, also known as my jacket pocket. The silence that continued to hang between us was deafening as the line of cars crept forward.

We finally made it onto the road, and in my depressed state I naturally began to speed. I also rejected the thought of turning the music on, not once moving my hand over to the dial. I just needed to get home before I broke. I couldn't let Sam see me like that.

I knew that he knew that, and he knew I knew that he knew that. It's complicated and somewhat sad, but we didn't talk about it.

After what seemed like an eternity, I finally pulled the Impala up into the driveway with a swift turn of the steering wheel. I cut the ignition with a sigh as I saw Sam look at me through the corner of my eye.

"I'm sorry, Sammy." I said more to myself than him, staring at the house in front of us.

"Dean, I-" He began, but I just got out of the car, shutting the door before heading up to the house.

I knew I was being difficult, but I don't think I could take any chick flick moments for the time being, or I'd break. I hurried into the house, immediately making a bee-line for my room.

Once I'd got to the security of my bedroom, I locked the door and threw myself onto the bed with a loud sigh. It was when my phone went off that I realized I had indeed left Jo at the school. It was right in that moment that I finally lost it.

. . . . .

**CAS' POV**

I came home only to find a very depressed Gabriel sitting at the wooden kitchen table. It certainly wasn't an ascetically pleasing sight; the hideous green paint slowly chipping away, accompanied by countless scratch marks and food crumbs. Not to mention the empty beer bottles that littered the entire room. Neither of us had the time to clean up the house, and it's not like we weren't used to it by now.

I gingerly set my bag down by the door before cautiously approaching the table, sliding into the chair across from where he sat. I waited silently, patiently, for him to speak, not wanting to rush him. It seemed like he was the only person who never demanded an answer from me, and vise versa. We were the only ones we could trust.

He parted his lips, prepared to spill out everything. "She dumped me, Cassie."

My eyes widened slightly at that; from they way he talked about his girlfriend, it seemed like they were made for each other. I didn't speak my opinion though.

He let out a pained laugh."The first time she'd ever came here, to my place. I tried to hold off from bringing her here for the longest time, I really did." He bit his lip, sniffing.

"I warned her, I told her what would happen. But she said that she'd love me no matter where I lived, no matter how poor I was. I actually thought-". He cut himself off, a tear slipping down his cheek.

"I was going to have her meet you; you would've loved her, Cassie. She was perfect, and her eyes, wow her eyes..." He trailed off, sighing. I had seen many pictures of her before, and he wasn't wrong, she did have beautiful eyes. But I'd seen better. Which reminded me.

"I hate to break it to you Gabe, but I've seen way better." I stating, leaning back in my chair, praying that my distraction would work.

His head snapped up instantly. "No way."

"Yes way." I crossed my arms.

"Who?" He asked eagerly, forgetting about his dilemma for the moment.

"His name is Dean." I said.

Gabriel squinted his eyes in confusion. "As in Winchester?"

I nodded. "But I thought we hated him." He tilted his head.

"We did. But now we don't, at least I don't think we do." I sat up straight once again.

He smirked at me. "So are you, like, into him now or something?"

My eyes widened in shock. "What, no! No no no no no. Not in a million years."

Gabriel's teasing expression went back to confusion again. "Then...?"

"I don't know why, Gabe, but he found me under the willow tree after what happened earlier today."

"What happened earlier today?" He asked, and I realized that I hadn't told him yet.

"Oh." I breathed, unwilling to relive it, but it was necessary I suppose. "Uh, this kid, Benny, I might've told you about him."

"Yeah, the mega asshole." He nodded, waiting for me to continue.

I bit the inside of my cheek. "Well, um, Dean told him about my being gay and such-"

"Wait, what? How did he find out?" Gabe intervened.

I cleared my throat."I uh, I accidentally told him a little while ago. Anyways, he was apparently drunk when he told Benny, who decided to tell everyone in the school and make my life a living hell."

A frown settled on his face, worry clouding his eyes. "How bad is it this time?"

I ran a hand through my raven hair. "Pretty damn bad, but I hope that my new friendship with Dean will soon change that."

Gabriel quirked a small smile, sympathy in his expression. "Here's to hoping."

I offered him a smile in return."So, how's the company doing?"

He sighed at that, placing his elbows on the table."Well, they're still letting people go left and right, but I think I'm safe. I hope I am."

"What makes you think you're safe?" I asked, curious. "Doesn't your boss hate you?"

He laughed.

"Yeah, he sure does, but _his_ boss doesn't." Gabriel leaned his chin on the palm of his hand. "I'm pretty sure he's in love with me by this point."

"That's awesome, Gabe!" I exclaimed, my smile growing.

"Haha, yeah." He looked down at the tables surface, a content expression settling across his features.

"It's tomorrow, you know." He mentioned. "The anniversary of our runaway."

"Yeah, I know." I sighed, "How could I forget?"

"Wanna celebrate?" He asked.

"How can we celebrate?" I scoffed.

"I don't know, I'll think of something." He abruptly stood up as he spoke. "Dinner?"

I quirked a small smirk at his reference. "Starving."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Sorry that it's a filler, but it was necessary 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you have a Merry Christmas or Hanukkah or what ever else you might/might not celebrate in the month of December! 
> 
> I feel like I don't interact with you guys that much... maybe I'll do something a little different in my next story
> 
> Next story you say? Tell me more of this 'next story'? 
> 
> Well I'm glad you asked! I have began writing my second Destiel fic :D I have no clue when it will be coming out, but I believe the title shall be Welcome Home 
> 
> Self-promotion and pointless rambling aside, I love you guys so much. I have tons of reads and that is pretty fucking awesome, so thank you.
> 
> Happy Holidays!


	11. Easy Is My Preferred Level of Difficulty

Not even the extremely monotone voice belonging to my history teacher could break me out of my joyful mood today. I usually hated this particular anniversary, but this year might just be the year that I get some of my confidence back, and I refuse to miss my opportunity because I was being a mopey little shit. It's been three years and no one has come after us. I personally think that that is something to be excited about.

I was sat in English at the moment, zoned out and staring out the window, but a yell broke my train of thought. I snapped my head in the other direction to see Gordon with his feet up on a desk, waving someone over, and I automatically assumed it was Dean. I looked in the direction of the door to see Dean completely ignoring him, and walking towards me? Wait what?

I couldn't believe it until he plopped himself down in the chair next to me, letting out a tired sigh. "Hey Cas."

I tried to blink away the shock as a result of Dean's course of action. "Hey."

I glanced over at Gordon, which probably wasn't the best idea in the world, since he was already glaring in my direction, his beady eyes giving me chills. I quickly glanced away as the teacher addressed the class.

"Hello class, today we shall be covering the subject of-" Aaaand I was distracted.

I was lucky that I was good at figuring things out and could afford to not pay attention in most of my classes most of the time, or I'd be screwed. Because of this, I laid my head down on the desk in front of me, letting out a quiet groan as I hit the desk harder than I expected. I heard Dean chuckle from beside me at my misfortune.

"Shut up." I mumbled.

I just knew he was smirking at me, and I glanced up at him for confirmation, which I instantly received. We stared at each other for a few seconds before I closed my eyes and attempted to drown out the rest of the world. Apparently Dean couldn't handle being bored for five fucking minutes, and the next thing I knew I was being lightly jabbed in the side, repeatedly I might add. I batted his hand away, and for a second the jabbing stopped and I let out a sigh of relief. But the next thing I knew, he was back at it, and even more persistent this time around.

"Dean." I whisper shouted as I squirmed.

"Yes, Cas?" He replied as he continued to annoy me.

"Cut it out." That wasn't one of my best ideas, so instead he started tickling me.

I sat straight up and covered my mouth with my hand to conceal a yelp. Dean chuckled beside me, bringing his feet up to rest on top of the desk before him. I glanced at his confident stature, noticing his right hand which was loosely wrapped in some type of gauze. I squinted my eyes at the bandaging.

"What happened to your hand?"

He glanced first at me then down at his covered knuckles. "Oh, uh, I got in a fight."

"With whom?" I asked, somewhat curious. He looked away sheepishly. "My bedroom wall."

"Ah." I chuckled slightly at the answer. "I see your wall put up quite a fight."

"Yep." He stared straight ahead as he replied.

"Who won?" I asked, a smirk spreading across my face.

"Oh ha-ha very funny." He crossed his arms. "And I beat the shit out of that wall." He mumbled more to himself than me.

I glanced back up at the teacher and attempted to pay attention to what she had to say. I got out my notebook and flipped it to a clean page and began writing down the notes that were on the board. Dean didn't do the same.

. . . . .

"Castiel Novak to the main office." The annoying crackle of the announcements voiced over the intercom. I was on my way to the courtyard when I heard the message, so with a sigh I changed my course, arriving at the main office within a matter of minutes. I pushed to door open to find an unexpected surprise.

"Hiya Cassie." Gabriel stood up from the chair he was seated in.

"What are you doing here?" I asked out of curiosity.

"Well we have an anniversary to celebrate, and I'm not gonna let your education come before your fun." He raised his eyebrows at me. "I already signed you out B-T-W."

I smiled in delight; I by far had the best brother in existence. "Thank you Gabe."

"No problemo baby bro, let's go." He exited cramped office, with me following close behind.

. . . . .

We ended up at the Bradbury Diner after aimlessly walking around the city for about half an hour. The familiar sound of a bell chimed as we pushed open the door leading to the diner's interior. Not many people occupied the tables around us, an elderly couple here and there, but no more. All the other young people were either at school or work. I sat in my usual seat at the counter, Gabe following suit. I set my bag down on the floor beside me as a voice called out. I recognized it immediately.

"Gabriel! Castiel!" I sat back up to find Charlie's grandmother making her way over to us.

"Hey Mrs. Bradbury." Gabe replied as I waved to her.

"What are you two doing here at this time of day?" She asked, her voice as sweet as honey.

"Oh, you know, just thought it'd be nice to spend time with my little bro." Gabriel covered for us; no one else knew of our past.

She grinned, buying it. "Well that's very sweet of you! What can I get'cha?"

"Two chocolate milkshakes would be great." Gabe grinned.

"Coming right up." She bounded into the kitchen; she was such a nice lady.

"So." Gabe practically beamed at me, excitement in his amber eyes.

"Why are you so happy?" I asked, smiling back at him.

"Guess who's sucky boss got fired." He raised his eyebrows at me.

My smile grew at the news. "That's awesome Gabe!"

"And guess who got promoted to take his place?" My smile fell in shock. "No."

"Yep." He laughed at my reaction.

The next thing I knew, I was hugging Gabriel as tightly as I could, and he almost fell backwards off his chair at the sudden force. "That's amazing Gabe." I whispered.

"Yeah, but let's not crush the life out of me, okay?" He managed to choke out.

"No promises." I mumbled in reply.

. . . . .

"Hey guys."

Out of habit, I slumped down at the table I usually did for lunch along with the rest of the group. Personally, I would've tried to find Cas, but I haven't seen him around. I figured if he wanted me, he'd know where to find me.

"Finally decided to join us, Winchester?" I looked over at Gordon, who sat there with a snarl. "Or were you too busy hanging around with that faggot?"

"Shove a sock in it moron." I retorted, a snarl of my own creeping in.

"Woah woah woah, take it easy there." Benny said with a knowing smile. "I'm sure Dean's got his reasons."

I slowly turned my head in his direction to find a satisfied smirk settled on his lips, his relaxed posture igniting a flame within me. It took everything I had not to reach across the table to strangle him and beat the ever living hell out of the bastard.

"O-kay." Jo glanced in between us, clearly not wanting to get in the middle of whatever was happening. "In other news,-"

I quickly tuned out the drone of her voice, seething in a very large pool of pissed-off-ness. I don't think I fully ever realized just how much my so-called friends sucked. Well, all of them besides Jo anyways. She was the only one I could actually trust in this stupid-ass group.

I also knew Sam was right about them, right about what they'd done to me, but the last thing I wanted to do was admit it. And if I eventually did, I don't think I could stop myself from literally killing Benny. Even though deep down I knew right from wrong, I had been acting as someone I'm not for the past few years, and honestly I don't think I could remember how to be me again. And that scares the ever-living hell out of me.

Things are easier this way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys.   
> So I realize that I haven't updated in forever and for that I apologize, but I've had complete writers block for the past month on this story, so I've been working a lot on Welcome Home   
> Any-who, I'm not sure when I'll update next, this chapter is really short and unedited so I'm sorry, but hopefully I come up with something soon   
> Don't worry I'm not abandoning the story I just need to think So yeah - Leave some comments to motivate me if you'd like   
> I'll try to update sooner if I come up with something


	12. This World Is For the Wicked

_I exhaled a shaky breath, an overwhelming sense of fear pulsing though my veins. I couldn't speak, for a lump had formed right in the middle of my throat, my whole body tensing up as a result. I didn't want to believe it, and by the looks of it, neither did Gabe._

_But it was him. No doubt about it._

. . . . .

"Maybe we should just skip class today." I suggested as I leaned my back up against the row of lockers, propping my leg up against them as well. "I'm really not in the mood for being lectured at the moment."

"Yeah, me neither." Jo added, the outline of her figure highlighted by the golden rays of sun shining through the large window next to us. "First period was sucky enough."

"I'm down for it." Benny commented, shoving his hands in his pockets.

I was about to reply, but then I saw something that grabbed my attention instead. "You guys head to the Impala, I'll be right out."

"M'kay." Benny mumbled, turning away along with Jo.

I, on the other hand, made my way across the hall to where a certain someone currently was.

"Hey Cas." I casually walked to where he stood at his locker. "Wanna skip with us?"

"I'd prefer to spend my time doing something productive rather than spend it with the assmonkeys you call your friends." He muttered, his voice flat.

I blinked at the harsh response, surprised at the dull tone. "Hey, I know you don't exactly like them, but maybe that'll change?"

"I said no, Dean." He snapped, glaring up at me.

I almost physically recoiled back at his zombie-like appearance. His hair didn't just seem bed-head messy, but dirty. I could've sworn his completion was much paler than usual, an almost sicky kind of white. Dark bruises underlined his next to dead blue eyes, the rims outlined in red and his eyelids droopy. His posture was slumped, and to top it off he was wearing the same clothes that he had on yesterday.

My eyes widened in shock. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Well it's nice to know I look as lovely as ever." The sarcasm was so obvious it almost hurt.

I looked him up and down once more, finally landing on his eyes. "Dude, there is no way in hell I'm letting you stay here like this. You look like some Thriller-Video-Reject."

"I'm fine Dean." He stated grumpily.

"Okay, whatever, but you're not staying here." I replied sternly.

He shut his locker, turning fully towards me. "You can't stop me."

"I can carry you out if I have to." I threatened.

"I could totally beat you in a fight." He scoffed.

I leaned in closer to him, my heart rate speeding up as I did so. "Wanna bet?"

His eyes searched mine, as if desperately looking for an answer. "Why do you even care?"

I quickly glanced at the floor, wondering the same thing before looking back at him. "I don't know." I sighed, feeling a twinge of embarrassment for my lack of a good answer. "But I do, so suck it up and let's go."

He sighed, giving in. "I'm gonna regret this."

"You'll live."

We walked in silence during the whole trip out to the car, side by side.

As we approached the car, Jo and Benny halted their conversation, looking up at us.

"Took you long enough-" Jo started before noticing Cas, who had shuffled somewhat behind me. "Uh, Dean?"

"Yeah?" I replied.

"Why is he here?" She crossed her arms in confusion.

"Oh, Cas?" I glanced back at him before looking back at her. "He'll be joining us."

"Uh, why?" She sneered, clearly disapproving of his presence.

"Look," Cas stepped out so that he stood directly beside me, looking so done with them at the moment. "I'm not exactly thrilled about spending my day with you assnuggets either, but I'm making an attempt to shut my trap about it. I suggest you do the same."

Jo's mouth parted slightly at his forwardness, seeming offended.

"Well it's someone's time of the month." Benny commented from where he leaned against the Impala, earning a slap on the arm from Jo. "Hey I wasn't talking about you!"

She just glared at him before turning back to Cas and I.

"Are you seriously friends with this guy now? Not too long ago you were having a grand ole time beating the shit out of him!"

I shrugged, not really knowing how to answer. "It just sort of happened."

"Your descriptive skills never cease to amaze me." Cas commented from where he stood.

"Okay fine, whatever, can we just go?" Jo sighed, climbing into the passengers seat without waiting for a reply, Benny following suit as he got into the back.

I turned to face Cas. "Shes really not that bad once you get to know her."

"So I've heard." He mumbled before climbing into the backseat, without any protest about sitting directly next to Benny.

I stood there like an idiot for a moment before finally walking around the car to hop in and turn on the engine, which roared to life as I shut the door. ACDC began blaring though the speakers, and I saw Cas jump slightly at the sudden noise. I smirked to myself, amateur. I pulled out of the parking lot, on the road within seconds.

. . . . .

Before I knew it, we had pulled up into our driveway, me cutting off the engine as we all piled out of the Impala. Jo, Benny and I all immediately started for the front door, Cas somewhat awkwardly trailing behind. We all slipped our shoes off at the door, since that was basically the only rule in this house; both the white furniture and the floors played a part in that.

Jo made a beeline for the kitchen, grabbing four beers from the fridge, bringing them into the living room and setting them down on the coffee table. I was about to ask Cas if he even wanted one, but before I could, he picked up a bottle, popping the cap off against the side of the table like it was nothing, taking a swig.

He noticed my staring with a grin. "I know, I just keep getting more and more badass."

I blinked back stupidly before replying. "I just didn't expect you to be the regular-drinking type."

He pulled the bottle away from him, examining it. "Eh, brother was a bartender once upon a time. I picked up a few things from him."

"Wait, can you actually make drinks?" Jo stole my next question.

"Any drink. You name it, I can make it." He nodded as he spoke.

"Screwdriver." She challenged.

"Easy."

"Apple Martini."

"Yep."

"Lemon Drop?"

"Uh huh."

"Old-Fashioned."

"Yeah, how do you know this many drinks anyways?" Cas questioned her.

"My mom _is_ a bar tender." She replied proudly. "And I can make anything."

"I didn't know that."

"Well now you do."

Cas took a step closer to her. "I feel as if I've been issued a challenge."

"Maybe you have." She spit back matter-of-factly.

"...I'm not sure if you're actually getting along or if is one of those really terrifying situations where you act all nice in a mean sort of way." I interrupted their staring/glaring contest, which caused them to both look at me simultaneously, a fire of some type in their eyes.

"Well mark me down as scared and horney." Benny commented from where he sat on the couch, earning a full on glare from Jo.

I chuckled at the small banter that arose between them, taking a sip of the alcohol within my possession. They lightly argued for a few minutes, me watching them in amusement. But when I turned to make a remark to Cas, I found that he was not in the room anymore. I gave a small frown at that before heading off into another portion of the house, leaving Jo and Benny to bicker.

I looked in the kitchen, nope not there. I decided to check down the hallway next, expecting him to be gazing out the glass walls and into the land that laid beyond the pool, but I had no such luck. I made a noise of confusion in the back of my throat, could he be upstairs?

I continued my journey, heading towards the spiral staircase. As I began to climb up it, however, I stopped on my tracks. The faint sound of a piano could be heard from the second floor. Out of curiosity, I walked up the rest of the stairs, stopping at the second floor and heading towards the den. The music only grew louder as I approached the doorway, and i took a cautious peak in.

There, sitting at the grand piano at the other side of the room, was Castiel. His gaze was fixated on his hands as his fingers danced along the keys, creating the perfect harmony. He moved so gracefully, as if he belonged there, like nothing could touch him. I stared in awe at the sight of his blissed-out expression; I longed to be taken away from the world like that again. Alas, I haven't felt that way in a very long time.

"Holy Jesus on a boat." Cas jumped when I accidentally hit the wall with my hand.

I chuckled at his choice of words. "Sorry, did I scare you?"

He sighed, running a hand through his raven hair as he recovered from the shock. "A bit, yeah."

I hummed in reply, stepping fully into the well-kept room. "I see you found the piano."

"Yeah, something just drew me to it. I can't explain it really."

"I know what you mean."

He nodded at me, a small quirk of his lips in addition. "When's the last time you played?"

He heaved a sigh, a quick draining of air from his lungs. "Oh not in a long time. It seemed appropriate for this specific occasion, however."

"What?"

"Nothing."

I would've pushed further, since I'm a snoopy little bastard, but the look he gave me cautioned me against it.

"I dont think I ever truly appreciated the layout of your home." He glanced around the room, adding a little effect to his statement. "I mean, it's like someone stuck a pole in the ground and built up around it. Windows in every room, quite large ones in most. It's beautiful, if I'm being honest."

I quirked a smile at that. "Yeah, I used to imagine that this place was like a warm apple pie; every room was a slice of it, all touching the crust at some point, otherwise known as the outside, hence the windows. Beileve it or not, I'm the one who designed this whole thing."

Cas' eyes widened at the information. "Wait, really?"

I raised my eyebrows at him, nodding. "Yep. Given I was only maybe four at the time, I developed an obsession with pie that sticks with me to this very day." I strolled towards him as I explained. "I remember when my folks were designing this place. I was sitting at our old kitchen counter, sippy cup filled with applejuice. Second one that day; rules were that I could only have one, but hey, I was a rebel."

"...So basically you just felt the need to brag about your badass-four-year-old-self who sat on his ass while his parents disscussed their plans with you present?" Cas gave me a look that screamed seriously.

"But wait, there's more." I leaned my elbows down on the surface of the piano. "So they're all like freaking out n' shit, when all of a sudden I solve all their problems with a simple, 'make it look like a pie!'"

"Well, I tip my hat to you sir." He muttered sarcastically. "You could do this professionally."

"You could do this professionally." I copied him with a snotty child-like voice.

"Don't use that tone with me mister." He growled, assuming a motherly stance, hands on his hips and all.

I stared at him for a moment before I laughed, Cas joining me sortly after. We calmed down after a minute, still giggling slightly.

"Hey Cas?" I asked. "Why do you think we get along so well?"

"I honestly don't have a good answer to that question." He replied. "I mean, I used to hate your guts; hell, I still might."

"Then why the friendly conversations?"

"Well, you're defiantly one of the more mild bullies I've met during my lifetime." He sighed. "And, despite your previous acts of cruelty towards me, I understand why you do it."

I cocked my head, somewhat unreasonably insulted and confused.

He sighed again. "Don't give me that look."

"What look?" I asked.

"That look. The one that says 'you don't know me'."

"Well you don't know me."

He rolled his eyes. "I know you hate the thought of being transparent Dean, but I'm trying to give you someone you can trust here, someone who gets it."

"DEAN! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE AND ENTERTAIN ME!" Jo yelled from what sounded like the bottom of the staircase, saving me from answering. I was somewhat grateful for her interruption; I could feel myself preparing to get all defensive and start an argument.

. . . . .

While Dean went back downstairs in reply to Jo's call, I instead attempted to find a bathroom in the mansion. He might've assumed that I'd be right behind him, but I didn't really feel like conversing with those morons at the moment.

I eventually succeeded, stepping onto the royal blue tiled floor, shutting the door behind me. I never thought I'd think this, but it was a lovely bathroom, just like every other part of the house. I laid my hands down on the rims of the sink, letting my head drop, sighing. It was difficult to get through to people as it was, but from what I've heard Dean was a whole other story. Apparently the term 'emotionally constipated' would be acceptable in his case.

I knew a broken person when I saw them, mostly because they would take one of two courses of action. Action A: shutting out the rest of the world in favor of wallowing in your own sadness and depression until you eventually dig a hole so deep that almost nothing can really pull you out of it. Action B: Picking on the weaker ones so you feel as if you have just a bit of control on what you do with your life, a sense of superiority that is the only thing keeping you from loosing it. I was an example of someone who had taken Action A; Dean just so happened to be an example of someone who'd taken Action B.

I looked up at myself in the mirror, almost physically recoiling at my appalling appearance. Well, Dean certainly wasn't wrong. Bruises underneath my somewhat bloodshot eyes, hair messier than usual; yeah, I was a wreck. But in my defense, I had every right to be.

. . . . .

_*The Previous Night*_

_"Cassie, could you hand me my phone? It's on the coffee table." Gabe asked as he clicked away on his laptop; no doubt something work-related, due to the time he had taken off. We had spent the whole day out, having just got back about a half hour ago._

_"Yeah." I replied, picking up the ringing cell phone, intending to hand it straight to Gabe when I caught the area code._

_"Ohio? Does your work really go that far out?" I asked, examining the arangment of numbers on the small screen._

_"Not that I'm aware of." He replied, but in that moment I recognized the number, freezing in place._

_"Holy shit." I whispered, eyes widening as an intense fear shot throughout me, still staring intently at the number._

_"Cassie? Who is it?" Gabe looked up from his laptop to find my slightly shaking form in the middle of the living room. "Cassie?"_

_I blinked multiple times, hoping, praying that it wasn't true. It couldn't be. "G-Gabe."_

_He was at my side in an instant, plucking the device from my hands, seeing the evidence for himself. "No." He whispered to himself. "No no no no."_

_My hands still held the shape of the phone as he realized the reason for my panic, speaking my thoughts for me. "This can't be happening."_

_I felt the beginnings of a panic attack coming on as we stood there, Gabe never letting go of the buzzing piece of technology he clutched with a white-knuckle grip._

_He didn't answer._

. . . . .

**Hiya guys.**

**I know, I only updated a week or two ago and there's a new chapter already- I'm surprised too**

**But for some reason, after months of wanting to quit this story, now I can't stop writing it**

**Hopefully I'll begin to update more often at this rate :D**

**Would you guys like it if I recommended fics? Yes? No?**

**Anywho, see you then**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Hopefully I'll start updating more often as I have decided how the story should go


	13. Novocaine Is My Self-Perscribed Drug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: This chapter contains a depressing state of mind, slurs, and sexual content.

A little over a week had passed since the first time my father had called Gabe's cell phone. He kept calling, once a day, if not twice. It was getting to the point where I had developed a fear of staying up after dark, seeing as that's when _he_ always called.

The notes in my locker were a reoccurring event, although they were beginning to come in smaller amounts; I assumed that my connection with Dean might have watered down the harassment. He hadn't taken any course of action to stop the bullying as far as I am aware, but he hasn't been promoting it either, so at least it wasn't the main topic of conversation at our high school anymore.

Dean was with me on and off, as if he wished to be my friend, yet was ashamed of that wish. The mixed signals I was receiving were none other than immensely confusing, but I suppose I can't be too surprised at his choice of actions. After all, he had never befriended someone at the bottom of the social food chain before.

In all honesty, I didn't even know if he considered us friends. I didn't even know if I considered us friends. Maybe acquaintances? I'm not quite sure at the moment. Along with time the answers shall present themselves I suppose.

The, as you could say, "mural" located on my bedroom wall has become a foul sight, my tears running bloody when it came to adding onto the battered organ. The obvious display was my entire diary spread out for anyone to lay eyes upon, but then again, the chances of it being read were slim, seeing as I still remain friendless. Besides, what better way to pass the time then paint the damage done to my heart in pinpoint detail?

Vent art didn't make things any easier, but it was a way to pass the time.

. . . . .

Despite the knowledge I held, despite the common sense part of myself screaming just how bad of an idea this was, that I was only letting my father win, I swiftly agreed to Dean's invitation to the party he was hosting tonight. Friday night, I haven't got anything better to do, right? Why not live a little.

It was a very bad idea, deciding to go to his stupid-ass party, but I couldn't bring myself to regret my decision. I'd been feeling quite numb the past week or so, but it seemed justifiable to me. Who could blame me for wanting to get out of the house in the later hours of the day, for wanting to avoid _him_?

"Cassie, I don't think that's a good idea." Apparently Gabe could.

"Gabe, I'm going whether you like it or not." I huffed, currently sitting on the surface of the kitchen counter.

"Do you even want to go?" He questioned, my act transparent to him.

I leaned my head back against the cabinet behind me, pondering the question for a moment. "Not particularly, no."

"Then why are you going?"

"Because, Gabe." I replied simply with that common teenage sass.

"Cassie, you're wearing a button-down. You actually look like someone who owns zero sweaters. There's gotta be a good reason for you to do that."

I dragged out an exhale, lightly shutting my eyes. "I'd just rather be away from here when _he_ calls."

Gabriel emitted a heavy sigh at my excuse. "Maybe he'll stop..."

"You know as well as I do that there is a very slim chance of that happening."

Gabe's eyebrows tilted up in sorrow as his gaze shifted into something of a fragile and exhausted individual. "What are we gonna do Cassie?"

"Hell if I know." I scoffed, attitude still lining my tone despite Gabe's obvious display of pain.

He held his head in his hands, shoulders hanging in defeat. "Things were finally starting to look up here too."

I nodded subconsciously, breathing out a puff of air. He wasn't wrong, work was going great for him, and as far as he knew, so was school. I'd allow him the luxury of believing that I was making friends and not being bullied for once in my life.

Everything seems to have been stripped from Gabriel, curtesy of our father. Sometimes I wonder if he's actually bisexual or if it's just a delusional way he justifies himself for favoring men. After all, he did originally come out as gay to our father, and loosing his girlfriend only seemed to damage his self-esteem if anything.

Pondering my thoughts, I hopped off of the countertop, making my way towards the front door. The silence which had taken over tainted the air made me feel somewhat claustrophobic.

"And, Cassie?"

I turned around, intently watching Gabe's crumpled form.

"Just... just don't do anything you'll regret, okay?" He muttered as he studied the wooden table in front of him.

I nodded, not daring to say a word out of fear of making a promise I couldn't keep. I immediately headed towards the door, yanking it open and rushing down the creaky steps. I began walking in the direction of the nearest bus stop; there was no way in hell I was walking the whole way to Dean's mansion of a house. I also didn't want to think, and at least on a bus I could study the people finding refuge in it instead.

. . . . .

Dean Winchester's grand house alone is one thing; Dean Winchester's house combined with flashing lights deafening music and such a large crowd of people that it's almost obnoxious is a whole other ordeal. The resemblance was something like a war zone, and to any point-dexter type of individual, the sight would be even more frightening than being approached by a member of the female gender. But to someone as numb as I, the scene was quite endearing; inviting, even. Anyone would assume me to be suicidal to even consider wandering into a den full of hungry predators, me being the seemingly easy prey. I knew for a fact that I was not easy, but at this weakened state, there is a very strong possibility that I could be a very easy fuck tonight.

Despite that it was extremely dangerous for me to be by myself, especially while I was surrounded by free alcohol and potential sex-partners, I sauntered into the mansion through the front door, thankful that no one had assumed a bouncer position as I entered with ease. I waded through the sea of dancing people, pushing through until I reached the kitchen, a couple occupied with sucking each others faces off standing guard. I huffed a laugh, slipping past them and into the drink-filled room.

First it was one empty bottle, then two, then my shirt was half undone, then six, then my left shoe went missing, then I lost count. And now...now I was downing a bottle of alcohol-filled punch next to the pool. Or maybe it was tequila. I can't remember.

"CHUG, CHUG, CHUG," The crowd surrounding me chanted from where they stood, the vast majority of them only half-dressed. Someone had obtained two full bottles of Absinthe from God knows where, explaining their extreme behavior. I'm 90% sure that that stuff is illegal, but hey, who am I to judge? I'd be lying if I said I hadn't tried a bit myself.

I continued chugging whatever was in the bottle, a few trickles of liquid running down my cheeks, neck, dampening the collar of my button-down. My throat burned, my eyes screwed shut as I finished off the remaining contents of the bottle, earning cheers of approval from the drunken crowd. I let out a victory cry, holding the bottle by its neck as I thrusted it into the air above my head, as if I was holding up a hard-earned Olympic trophy or medal or whatever. The people around me offered up yet another round of cheers, also thrusting their half-full bottles up in imitation of me. A smile plastered onto my face, I lowered my arm, carelessly dropping the empty bottle into the open pool beside me, lacking a better place to discard of the object.

Just a few minutes afterwards, someone suggested body shots.

And now Lisa Braden was lying on top of a dining table, stripped of most of her clothing, Dean licking the salt off of her tanned stomach. I was among those who rejoiced as he reached the lime in her mouth, completing the body shot.

"Cas!" Dean shouted from where he stood next to the Lisa-covered table. "You're up."

"I dunno..." I sighed; if these people wanted a show, they'd have to earn it from now on.

"Aww c'mon Cassiel, let's see if Lisa is hot enough to turn you straight." Lilith challenged me, and albeit she pronounced my name wrong, I caved.

"M'kay then," I stepped up to the table, Dean setting Lisa up for the body shot. "Let's fuckin' do this."

. . . . .

...I think it's safe to say that Lisa Braden is sexually attracted to me. I will admit, that's probably my fault for attempting to be as sexy and seductive as possible, watching her squirm as I dragged my tongue up her stomach for my own entertainment. Unfortunately for her, I was still as straight as a rainbow slinky by the time I had bitten into the sour lime.

"Nope, still gay." I remarked aloud, mostly to myself.

"Oooh, he told you Lisa!" Some blond kid shouted.

Dean slung an arm around my shoulder. "Man, you are the gayest fag I've ever met."

I probably should've been insulted, but I didn't care anymore. What was the point?

"Well, you know what they say," I replied. "Gay guys are great at parties."

"True dat!" Someone yelled.

And some point between then and now, someone called the cops.

"HEY! EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Ash yelled, silencing most of the crowd. "SOMEONE CALLED THE PO-PO!"

"SHIT MAN, REALLY?" Dean called back, Ash nodding in confirmation. "KILL THE LIGHTS AND SHIT GUYS!"

I joined Ash where he stood, and sure enough, a cop car was inching along the lamp-lit street. It's a good thing you could see a ways down the road. Perfect for spotting the flashing lights before the driver even spotted the house.

The music came to an abrupt halt, the strobe lights switched off, leaving the house almost completely dark, besides the moonlight which shone through the windows. Dean cautiously joined us at the window, just as the police cruiser came to a gradual halt across the street.

"Shit." He whispered to himself, before motioning for everyone to get down.

The three of us watched in anticipation as not one, but two officers stepped out of the vehicle, shutting their doors. We watched with anticipation as the approached the doorstep.

We all held our breath as the dreaded doorbell rang, echoing throughout the house. Dean inhaled before grabbing the door handle, preparing to turn it-

"Dean!" Ash whisper-shouted, startling him.

"What!?" Dean whisper-shouted back, somewhat irritated.

"You're still holding your beer you ignorant slut."

"Oh yeah." Dean handed Ash the amber bottle before turning back to the door.

"Dumbass." Ash breathed as Dean swung the door open.

"Greetings and Salutations, officers. What brings you by at this hour?" I slapped a hand over my mouth, containing a laugh at Dean's formal language.

I was at an angle that allowed me to see one and a half of the cops which stood before him. The officer in full view was dark-skinned and bored, a seemingly donut-shop type. His posture was somewhat slouched, his eyes hooded and drowsy. From what I could tell, his partner was the exact opposite. The young man stood with proper posture, owning an expression that screamed determination. However, he came off as a bit too serious, implying that he was new to the job.

"Dean." The older man addressed him, earning a wary glance from his partner at the use of Dean's first name. "What in the hell do you think you're doing boy?"

"I'm not doing anything Rufus. Honest." And then someone sneezed.

A muffled 'sorry' was emitted from the kid responsible, and Dean came up with a quick excuse. "That was, um, my dog."

Ash and I both cringed simultaneously at the lie. The man known as Rufus continued to stare at him.

"Um, Mr. Winchester," The newbie-cop spoke up, clearly shocked at the interaction. "We received a call that-"

"You have ten seconds to explain yourself." Rufus interrupted his partner.

Deans face lit up a bit before he began stumbling back into what looked like the kitchen. As he disappeared, Ash made his way to the doorway, me following behind.

"Evening Rufus." He smiled, lifting his bottle in a toast before taking a swig. I waved as well, noting the other officer's jaw drop at the display.

 Meanwhile, a wave of chatter rose from among the crowd that filled the room, which was doing a very bad job at keeping quiet. Most of them were full-on standing by the time Dean returned with a large bottle of booze. He thrust the bottle towards Rufus, a smirk forming on the officers face as he gladly accepted the token. "Johnnie Walker Blue. Only thing worth drinkin'."

"Always got some for you, Rufus." Dean flashed a drunken grin towards him.

"I guess it's bad that I've started getting excited whenever I get a call about you, boy." Rufus chuckled, beginning to turn around. "Have a nice night boys. C'mon, let's go."

"Um, Officer Turner? Is...is that allowed?" The younger man stared at Rufus in disbelief.

"Probably not. Now c'mon." He hesitated before following Rufus back to his police cruiser, throwing a wary glance at us over his shoulder. Ash threw him a friendly wave before turning to go back inside, emptying his bottle. Dean and I still stood at the doorway, watching as the car drove off in the same direction as it had arrived. The colored lights and booming music filled the household once again, cheers erupting from inside in delight.

"Ya know what I'm gonna do?" Dean muttered from his side of the doorway, isolated from the commotion for the first time tonight. "I'm gonna teepee that house over there. They hate me, and I hate them 'cuz they hate me. And ya know what?"

Dean stepped out onto the front porch, spreading his arms out slightly. "I'm gonna punch their damn fuckin dog in the face too. Stupidass mutt bit Sammy once. Not bad, but still. And ya know what else?"

He leaned against the railing, continuing his rant. "Imma piss on their flowers. Then I'm gonna set fire to the piss and burn their fucking house down. That'll show 'em."

I began laughing hysterically at his determination, surprising myself when I couldn't find the will to stop. Affect of the alcohol I presumed. "You've got a whole plan huh?"

"You fucking know it." He confirmed.

I continued to giggle slightly, stepping out onto the porch as well. "You know what I'm gonna do tonight?" I commented. "Anyone, anywhere. I don't give a fuck, all I know is I need one."

"Same here, man." Dean huffed. "I need to get laid. It's been too long."

"Yeah." I replied, not knowing what else to say.

"Well, imma go back in and find me a fuckbuddy, you comin?" Dean pushed himself off of the railing.

"Yeah." Dean smirked and turned towards the door, myself in tow. Once inside, we parted and went off to find ourselves an easy fuck.

. . . . .

I was slammed up against the wall of the upstairs hallway, breathing heavily as the man before me sucked and nipped at my collarbone. I leaned into the open mouth, emitting a breathy moan out of pleasure. About five minutes into the intense make out session and we were already stumbling blindly to the nearest unoccupied room, making a few stops along the way. Right now was one of those stops.

The man in front of me tightened his hold on my hips as he mouthed along my neck, leaving a sloppy trail of saliva as he went. My hands automatically came up to tangle themselves in his hair, holding his form close to me.

I gasped when he teasingly, tauntingly slipped one leg in between mine, giving an experimental roll of his hips. I let out a whine at the sensation that rippled throughout my overheated body, desperate for more.

Unluckily for me, this guy was one to tease.

He pinned my hips against the wall when I chased after the sweet friction, refusing to let me take any control. He took his time, waiting a moment before rolling his hips ever so slightly against mine, a light touch just to taunt me.

My chest heaved as his mouth came back up to meet mine, tongues battling for dominance as we stumbled drunkenly into the empty room next to us. He kicked the door closed behind us almost expertly, not once breaking the contact between our lips. I immediately stripped my shirt off of myself, flinging it across the room in favor of reconnecting my mouth with his. He ran his hands up my chest, ghosting them down my sides with a feather-like touch. I shuddered.

The man before me took no time to push me down onto the bed once we reached it, climbing on top of me, straddling me. He slowly grinded down on me, drawing a moan from my parted lips. I clawed at his shirt, and he took the hint, peeling the fabric off of his torso with one swift motion, not caring where it ended up.

As our grinding became more frantic, the movements gradually speeding up as the need for friction grew stronger, he began to undo the top button of my skinny jeans. A cry of pleasure emitted from me as he quickly forced the zipper down, the metal dragging against my throbbing dick in the best way. He pulled my jeans down, leaving my boxers on for the moment. I hurriedly kicked them off the rest of the way before pulling him back down to me.

He kissed down my neck, down my chest until he reached a nipple, nipping at the bud and swirling it with his tongue. I arched my back, leaning into the foreplay. He continued down my stomach, mapping out the dips and curves as he went. He stopped when he reached the hem of my boxers, casting me a devilish glance.

Suddenly, he began mouthing at my hardness through the thin and restricting fabric, causing my hands to desperately grab at the sheets. I sucked in a breath as he hooked his hands beneath the hem of my boxers, yanking them down hurriedly, the fabric dragging down my cock, drawing a moan from me. And, without warning, he flicked his tongue across the tip of my erection, my head flinging back so violently it almost hurt.

"Ohh fuck me." I gasped as he flicked his tongue once again. " _Fuck_."

With a malicious glance, he licked my cock from base to tip, drawing yet another gasp from me. "D-don't stop."

He continued licking at my dick, my hands knotting in his short hair. He swirled his tongue around the tip, barley giving any warning before taking me whole. A cry sounded from my open mouth, eyes wide and unseeing at the white-hot pleasure as I tightened my grip in his hair.

"Please please please." I chanted as he bobbed his head up and down, gradually picking up the pace.

I never even knew that the things he did with his tongue were even possible, the way he licked across the underside of my throbbing member. I pushed his head down as far as he let me, sweaty and desperate, fucking myself into his inviting wet mouth.

I protested at the loss when he came up with a pop, in favor of ripping off his own jeans, boxers coming with. I watched as he leaned over me, opening the drawer to the nightstand beside the bed. I observed the ripple of muscles as he pulled out a condom and a small portable bottle of lube, slamming the drawer shut. He flicked the lid of the white bottle open, squeezing the necessary amount into the palm of his hand.

He slid one lube-coated finger into me, going one knuckle at a time. He soon added a second finger, continuing to scissor me open. Three fingers in, I was panting and rolling my hips, a desperate mess. He took that as a green light.

After prepping me, he ripped open the foil packet containing the condom, rolling it onto his arousal, giving himself a few pumps. He lined himself up, slowly sliding himself into me, pausing once he'd bottomed out, allowing me to adjust. After a minute, I gave a cautious roll of my hips, a signal for him to _just move already_.

Taking the hint, he pulled out and thrusted back in, a simultaneous moan emitting from the both of us. As we gradually picked up the pace, his breathing became more high pitched along with mine, my breaths coming in short pants. And then he hit a spot inside me that shot pleasure thought out my whole body, and I cried out.

"I-I...Oh, fuck," I babbled as he continued to thrust into me at that angle, hitting my prostate.

My neglected cock brushed against his chest with every movement, turning me into a shaking mess beneath him. I buckled my hips to meet his thrusts each time, my heart beating at a rapid fire pace.

"Oh God, oh-" He gasped. I shot my hand down to grasp my hardness, pumping it to the beat of his thrusts as I came closer to my climax. I glanced up to see a pair of green orbs staring back at me, filled with lust and desire and something else. And suddenly it was too much to handle, the wet-hot heat, the pleasure, the noises I drew from him, the repetitive banging of the headboard against the wall. I came with a silent scream, my head thrown back and my eyes screwed shut. He must not have been far behind me, because by the time I came down from my high, so did he.

Reluctantly, he pulled out, thumping down on the bed beside me. I was too blissed out to worry about the sticky mess that coated my abdomen, instead laying there, blocking out the world around me. I didn't care what the repercussions might be in the morning, or if Gabriel would be worried sick about me, or if my father called. If I thought I'd hit rock bottom before, then I was really in for quite a disappointment here. I quickly dozed off, a faint hope in my heart that I won't wake up when the morning comes.


End file.
